Emma Garrison didn't move from her spot on the floor the way a supreme queen would fight for what belongs to her. Perhaps, we just forget that we are no longer important to our dear ones the way no one can remember on the rise to destiny. That is to say that no one will check out the way we need to specify the way we love someone. She just sat there, legs stretched out, socked toes brushing the edge of the quilt like she was testing how far she could push before something tore or perhaps as I would rather say: it was her shiva destroying everything before her, which is her body to the greatest nature of reality.
The thing is, they cannot reach the threshold the way I can see the greatness of reality. In this way, The lamp kept throwing that same lazy gold across all three of them, but the air had changed, thicker now, like the room had swallowed something sharp and was still chewing what it was not begin.
She tilted her head, eyes flicking between Karl and Larisa the way she used to size up opponents on the debate team: slow, deliberate, already three steps ahead or maybe it was not just necessary for her to know that this could happen the way I see the love of my life. Yeah! She was jealous! I guess
Larissa: ( she was thinking something… not that good) Larissa:
The house smelled like rain and cold tea when Emma walked in. I felt her before I saw her sharp, curious, like a blade testing the air. Karl's shoulder tensed under my head, but I didn't move. No point in pretending we weren't exactly where we wanted to be. Friendship ... is born at the moment when one man says to another "What! You too? I thought that no one but myself. That is to say that we do not need the breath of the spirit to love. I see my anima is more wide awake than everything I can dream of. For that, I can say that I am real for what love can actually reach.
I need to know what it means to love someone. All you need is love. But a little of asha now and then doesn't hurt. I mean, I really know it, She stood in the doorway longer than necessary, taking inventory: the quilt, the linked hands, the silence that wasn't awkward until she arrived. When she finally spoke, her voice had that bright edge she uses when she wants to draw blood without leaving fingerprints. I answered calm. Always calm with Emma. She's family, even when she's trying to cut. HAHAH. This is fun.
Emma:
The thing is, so how long have you two been doing this? The way we can be born is not normal. We can barely connect with the beyond. That is to say that love cannot make it malleable. The need for love just gets worse. I really try to suppress it. The whole midnight-cuddle-philosophy thing? Staying over when the power's supposedly out but the lights are on downstairs? I walk in and it's like I crashed a private vow. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in the light of the mysteries of my heart, between the anima and the animus You're not even hiding it, you're framing it. In this way, quilt.
Cold mugs. Forehead kisses. Hallmark shot in a basement full of paradoxes. Karl Omega Yang who used to say love was just bad epistemology now has the smartest girl in three counties sleeping over like it's normal. Like it's inevitable. Perhaps it was all just a lie. You gotta tell me. Is it oxytocin? Or did you finally crack whatever code makes him stop thinking long enough to feel?
Karl moved then. Slow. Deliberate. He lifted the quilt off his lap, folded it once, set it aside like he was putting away something fragile before it broke. Stood up. Towered a little already too tall for the room, always had been or perhaps it is the way we refuse to give up when being faced by the world that breaks us again and over again. The thing is, we do not want to get up.
Omega: Emma. Don't. you are not this stupid. I mean, like you can tell me what you can do about it. Human existence basically is──a never to be completed imperfect tense. The thing is, we cannot forget the way we are in the need for life and death. I mean, it is not a thing at all.
Emma:
Don't what? Don't point out my little brother decided the answer to "why something rather than nothing" is "because Larisa stayed"? Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like. That is to say that you just let it consume because you cannot accept that I am the one taking care of you. You should trust everything to me. Don't ask if you're actually in love, or if this is just the next paradox you're trying to fuck your way through? HAHAH.
Larisa stood too. Slow. Moved to Karl's side. Slipped her hand into his. Not possessive. Just there. Perhaps, this is not the least of all your problems. That is to say that no one can be the greatest show that we do not dream of becoming. The thing is, we do not see beyond what we have on the surface. Ultimately, we end up by wasting the very proportions of our life.
Emma looked at their joined hands. Then at the floor. Then back up.
Larissa:
You're mad because you weren't here when it started. Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them. That is to say that you cannot move his heart the way I do.
Alright! This is getting too simpy. Fuck you, Karl.
Author.
You did not even get a girlfriend.
Emma:
I'm not mad. I'm curious. Big difference. Karl used to cry when he couldn't solve Zeno fast enough. It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the sorrow and the need for love. Perhaps, I also want to be your girlfriend. Now he's got you curled up like it's the most natural thing in the world. So tell me, Larisa is it oxytocin? Or something deeper? The need for love.
Karl:
You want to know if I love her? Sure. Yeah. I do. Not because she's smart. Maybe, I take it too far sometimes. But I know it is real. If love be rough with you, be rough with love;Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. Give me a case to put my visage in:A visor for a visor! what care I. What curious eye doth quote deformities? Not because she stayed. Because she sees the questions I can't stop asking and doesn't run. That is to say that the need for love can no longer be on the way to the top for what needs to be done to be completed. In that sense, we cannot have the need of loving, but truly loving, Because she sits in the dark with me and doesn't need me to solve anything. Because when the void stares back, she stares harder.
That's it. No paradox. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is, but not really: there is no door that we can go through. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things. No equation. Just her. And if you're pissed because I didn't wait for your permission, or because you think I'm throwing away my "potential" on something as stupid as another personthen say it. Don't dance around it with your debate-club smirk. Say it straight. Say it without any jell. Say it without any problem.
Emma:
I'm not pissed you love her. I'm pissed I had to walk in and see it. Like I'm the last one to know my own brother isn't alone anymore.
Larissa:
She loves you. She's just shit at saying it without drawing blood first. She would actually tell you the most desperate thing about what she knows about you. Yeah, I really know it.
Emma:
Next time, text me. So I don't have to drive four hours to crash your existential cuddle puddle. And Karl don't fuck it up. She's too good for your brooding ass. I love you. I love you. I do love you without any bother, desperately, violently, tenderly, completely, wholly. I want you in ways that I know you would find shocking that no one can confuse with pain, nor with the need for the main destination. My love, you don't belong with a man like me. In the past I've done things you wouldn't approve of, and I've done them ten times over. I have led a life of immoderate sin. As it turns out, I'm just as immoderate in love. Worse, in fact. Perhaps, this need for shame cannot take me now, but it takes for the moment.
Karl:
Deal.
Larissa:
Room's big enough. HAHAH.