by Christianne Tisdale
So, ages ago I was at a
dinner party��let��s just call it a daunting dinner party. There were a total of
18 people, only one of whom I knew, and as I would not be allowed to sit next to
him at dinner (Did I mention it was a posh daunting dinner party?), I was a wee
bit fucked.
What other aspects made it daunting? Loads o�� famous directors, actors, artists,
writers, bgillionaires and infamous quirks.
And me. And if just being "me" wasn't bad enough, I was the soul American.
Mommy, make the lambs stop screaming.
I donned my scuba mask, snorkel and flippers (aka, got sozzled) and dove right
in. Since people tend to like me (I have noooooo idea why) I supposedly did
swimmingly but I credit the non-sinking of my soul to my favorite author. She
was there and she was my elfin waterwings.
She has been my elfin angel for fifteen plus years. She has written two
paragraphs about kissing so intelligently erotic they are part of my seduction
script. Oh��shut up. We all have a script and you know it.
She wrote the most heartbreaking opening line to a book EVER. ��Why is the
measure of love loss?��
She wrote my favorite book, a book so beautiful that whenever I see it, I buy
it, read it again and gift to someone I love.
When I informed her of this she stated, ��Well, I guess we��ll let you stay.��
And she made the stay oh-so-worthwhile.
Months later, around the anniversary of my dad��s death, I discovered her blog. I
hadn��t known when we met that she had recently lost her dad. I sent her a
message in a bottle regarding that particular kind of love and loss. I sent the
e to her across the sea, but certainly never expected a response��we had spent at
best (and it was the best) an hour and a half talking.
Last Friday, I received (and I excerpt because some things just can��t be
shared)��
��You are intelligent and full of
feeling and those things together (not one or the other) make it hard to avoid
either the pain or the pleasure or the curious closeness they share. X��
Oh my...she wrote me my own blessed personal flotation device. How ever did I
get this lucky?
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