…
Gretel: Feels what? Different?
April: Yeah.
Gretel: April, sweetie, how many times have you given your heart away to some pathetic useless man-child because you convinced yourself it felt different?
April: Err …
Gretel: That’s what I thought. And, let me guess, the more you got to know them, the more evident it became that they weren’t different at all? You came away feeling lesser and scared and like you were crazy for wanting normal things? And yet, because you’d decided they were different, you hung on and got more and more hurt.
April: Stop it!
Gretel: What? Telling the truth?
April: Yes.
Gretel: Nope, babes. Sorry. You need to hear this. Stop thinking a man will be different for you when you are so messed up. Your damage is unlovable. You are unlovable.
April: Please, stop … This isn’t fair.
Gretel: I know hon, but this is why you have to carry on being me. This is the only way you’ll feel you have any power at all.
April: I don’t want power, I want to be loved.
Gretel: People love people with power. Anyway, I thought you let go of love? I thought you’d freed yourself of that?
April: I thought so too, but then … He’s so nice.
Gretel: Because you’re not being yourself.
April: I am a little bit.
Gretel: Go on then! Tell him about Ryan. Tell him about the rape. Get out your dilators. Cry on him and tell him all the horrible things you’ve been through. Sob and weep and cling to him, like you secretly want to. Vomit up all your pain and trauma. Beg him to make you feel safe. Beg him to write down a schedule of all the big promises of commitment he’s going to make to you and when he’s going to make them, to the minute, and get him to sign it with his blood. Show every inch of your needy, gross self. Do it all and then demand he love you forever. See how that works for you.
April: Surely maybe—
Gretel: And have you forgotten the hugely important fact that YOU HAVE LIED TO THIS MAN ABOUT EVERYTHING?! How can you explain that to him? Men don’t want anything real. Joshua only likes you because you’re not real. Megan was real with Malcolm, and look what’s happened to her. And she’s a million times less broken than you.
April: But …
Gretel: Haven’t you been enjoying the power of being me? Hasn’t it felt nice?
April: It felt nice the other night, when I was me and he seemed to like it.
Gretel: You’re actually kidding yourself, you know that, right?
April: Maybe I’m not.
Gretel: Think of everything you’ve hidden from him. Think about all you’ve not told him. Think about how you’ve pretended to be compared to what you’re really like. Do you honestly believe he’ll stay if you reveal who you really are?
April: But it’s not my fault I’m like this.
Gretel: Yeah, so? Doesn’t make it any more sexy though, does it?
April: …
Gretel: Break his heart. Make him love you then break his heart. Stop being a sap and enjoy having some power for the first time in your life. Why on earth would you want to let that go?
April: You sound crazy.
Gretel: Honey, with all due respect, I’m not the one talking to myself in the mirror right now.
Joshua: Hey. Is your roommate OK? Free any point tomorrow? We could go for a roast?
Gretel: Aww how sweet of you to ask after her. She’s not, but she will be. Think I need to be on duty the rest of the weekend though.
Joshua: OK. She’s lucky to have a good friend like you.
Gretel: Thank you.
Joshua: How about Monday?
After several hours …
Gretel: Monday I can do I think.
I hate men.
I hate how you fall for them. I hate how weak that makes you. I hate having feelings that you can’t stop and how hard they are to put back in their box. I hate how they make you feel like you’re always slightly wrong somehow, and how that makes you change who you are so they can love you. Then I hate how disempowering it feels to know you’re only loved because you’ve locked parts of yourself away to be acceptable. I hate how, once you’ve fallen for one, it feels so physically insurmountable to sever yourself from them, even if you’re fading away by being with them. I hate the fear you carry that they’ll find out what you’re really like and not want you any more.
I hate the women whom men find easy to love.
I