This Ain’t That, Either

              “I think (he’s) having hysterics,
                  Maybe you should slap (him).”
                                                     –    Alice Cullen

Did he just….
Did I just… 

Yup. I went there.
Regretfully. (Regretlessly.)
Quoted those books.

(Breathe)

Have you ever fallen for a fictional character?
Yea, me either. But if I had. Like, if I had.
It would be her.  Hands down.  If.

And maybe it makes sense (having been forced to read them),
having remembered similar personalities, for whom I’d once fallen,
(in the past). Not the past of the novel, but the past of my life.

And maybe she foreshadowed, as she often foreshadowed, as literary
device (wait, can I type literary without laughing? Or vomiting?),
one who would follow, or preceded, even, the others? In a past life?

                           (shootmenow, justshootmenow)

But it’s true! I didn’t need Greene, on the lackluster silver screen, to see
what I saw in my mind as I read (or didn’t see, for what seemed an eternity,
in that one book I waded through like crepuscular mud, where Meyer took her
away and held her hostage to forward a ridiculous conceit of…)

…I digress.                      (“How strongly are you opposed to Grand Theft Auto?”)

Um. Honestly. She’s the reason I kept reading, when an ex made me begin
and I guess I have to own up when I say she was neat. Super neat.
And I kinda, sorta, missed her. A little bit. But not much.

But a little.
Until I met you.