Our IM just yesterday:
James: You don't remember, sweetpea, but on our second meeting you asked me to read to you one of my stories, because you wanted to find out what kind of a writer I was. I did, and you liked it, and not long afterward you suggested I write the story of your life. I instantly agreed.
Vittoria: hmm i did that? kind of like i was interviewing you
James: Yep. You said you were always looking for a writer.
James: You said you had stories that would amaze me. And you were exactly right.
Vittoria: but i dint have a story except maybe my creative side
James: You had lovely tales about growing up in Buonopane. All sorts of surprising adventures. And yes, you came up with some fictional ones as well, just to add some spice to the narrative.
James: And then there were the utterly unbelievable events of our romance.
Vittoria: it will be a bit strange for me to hear it the first time. so maybe ill wait until you read it aloud to me, like you did before
James: Well, others say they love it, and they love you as well.
James: You deserve all the love you get from everyone, and from me. Without you, this book wouldn't be possible. I don't have that good an imagination. I could never make up a story like this one.
A long pause.
Vittoria: i dont know i have this feeling that the end of the book will be the end of my life
I didn’t hesitate. I typed immediately, intent on betraying nothing.
James: Nope. The end of the book will be the beginning of your—our—new life.
Vittoria: just to many things went wrong and are still. like they wont let me go. im tired of tests. and everything
I began typing before she finished. I would not let silence betray my fear.
James: No, sweetie, you will recover, and begin your new life. I promise.
James: Maybe you just need some time off.
Vittoria: from tests thats for sure
James: Well, maybe that too. You've had more than your share, haven't you?
James: You must think positive thoughts. Because you and I have lots of things to do in New York. We have a destiny. Do you hear me?
Vittoria: yes i hear you…
* * *
Epictetus says life is a banquet. We must with good grace accept the plate that is put before us. I understand the benefit of such an approach. But look. I want to shout at the waiter, “What IS this putrid garbage? You expect us to eat THIS?” And then I seize the plates, throw them against the wall. I rise, upturn the table. I look for something else to smash, somebody to beat senseless. I’m incapable of good grace right now. So you better get the hell out while you have a chance…all of you! OUT!