Tortured feelings

144 words

A friend of mine fell in love with a preacher who returned her tortured feelings.

Every time she told anyone about their complicated romance they’d ask: have you seen Fleabag? Had she seen the scripted, acted, costumed, filmed, edited and widely-acclaimed version of what she was, in effect, still living? Awful.

Yet why had I, too, asked her if she had seen that show? To suggest her trouble was unspecific? To ask her to try to see herself as a character in her own life?

Yes, she had seen it, she said, staring at me flatly across the metal sidewalk table outside the bar where we met the month after the affair had crumbled.

Or maybe the question was kinder than that—to remind her that it was over, was complete, that she might be rescued from suffering by seeing it as a season.