Perfected :: Her Body :: Greek Necessity :: Deep Throats :: Scrolls

Happy Families It is a well-documented family story that my mother, having enrolled as a mature student on a college course following her return from Israel, walked into her first lecture, took one look at the lecturer and thought, “That’s the man who’s going to father my children.” Thanks to that sudden whim, I got bad vision, an innate knowledge of Spike Milligan’s life & times, and someone to steal CDs from. It turns out, in fact, that her interest had been piqued by an introductory phonecall. A month or so later, they’d been dating a week and a half. Things were going swimmingly (except my mother nearly crashing the car on the motorway when the-man-who-was-to-become-dad fell asleep on their way back to his), and Mum suggested they just up and move in together. Did my father respond by rushing out of the room in fear, mumbling something about not being ready for commitment? Did he panic and turn the football on? Did he fake an epileptic fit just to change the subject? No, he did not. He proposed. He proposed. Fuck The Rules. My mother could make millions if she’d confess her closely-guarded secrets. I’ll tell you something, she hasn’t passed on the talents to her daughters. Regular readers, should there be any of you left (do tell me if there are, I might actually update this thing), will doubtless know that I’m not exactly a candidate for marriage and 2.4 children. But it would be nice to know that I too could hook a person of my desired gender with such effortless success. You know, they’re a cute couple. Teary-eyed and beautiful in their wedding photographs, adorable in the polaroids of them playing Happy Families with first one scrawny, premature baby, then two. And they’re still adorable. I see that more with every hospital visit, every time Daddy tries not to cry and just holds her damn hand. I was always terrified they’d split up, even when I was too young to be able to spell D.I.V.O.R.CE like Tammy Wynette. Because I couldn’t believe, pre-school sceptic that I was, that you could get that kind of stability. Apparently you can. Sickness and health, richer for poorer, all that crap that really, really isn’t so corny when you get to see it so close up. The more of it I see, the more I feel I have no right to be so fucking cynical about relationships. Sometimes he makes me wish I were straight, because then my children would have the chance of a father half as wonderful. She just amazes me every time she comes through stronger than before. I want that not to be tempting fate, so badly that I’ve deleted it and re-written it time and time again. But if Fate’s even reading, and decides to be tempted after this, she has no fucking heart. Under these onion-skin layers of brittle cynicism, they make me want what they have. Long may it continue. Hear that, fates? ______________________________ we have come so far :: it is over

Accomplishment :: The Moon :: Toga :: Night Flower