“Ok, Candy. I’ve run my errands, gotten my gray colored, my toes done, even had a massage. I’m as ready as I am going to be…time for the coin toss?”
“No need. I’ll defer.”
“Wow. That’s rich.”
“I can be nice, you know.”
“Right. I forgot. You’re the misunderstood one. It’s hard being Candace…yada yada…”
“It is.”
“So you’ve said.”
“How are you feeling? Really?”
“Are you my friend now?”
“No. Not exactly. But I’ve been with you for 648 hours (give or take). We have a “bond”, as it were.”
“Oh. That’s what you’re calling it? A bond. I suppose we do. However, I think of it more as a noose/rope relationship.”
“Tomato. Tomahtoe.”
“Words matter, Candace. My fucking life matters! I have things to do and no time for you.”
“And yet…”
“And yet. Here you are. My noose.”
“A bond.”
“I am not going to discuss synonyms with you.”
“Fine. All I really want to know is how you’re doing. For real. “
“I’m annoyed. I’m scared. I’m sad. But mostly. I’m determined.”
“Good.”
“Which part?”
“All of it, but mostly the determined part.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to need it. I’m sneaky. I’m a backhanded, conniving bitch who plays to win. Do you play to win?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Mother F—-er.”
“Ok, then, my bonded friend, Game On.”
“Game On.”
Reread and chills all over again.
Thought of you as soon as I woke this morning. By now you are in recovery. You have said goodbye to Candace and more. No looking back - forward only. Be gentle with yourself for awhile.