She was that girl. The one you called cute. The one who was in that story as the weird, inhuman anima leading the hero to discover himself.
She was what your Southern gramma woulda called a character, a “real kick in the head”. She had character, all right… but did she have a personality?
Did you even bother to check?
What was she even doing there, to begin with? I know it seems like she was only there for you. But come on. Are you really that guy? The guy who acts like it’s all about him? If you are, I’m not even sure I should be watching this movie, reading this book, taking the time out of my day.
What does she want? What does she care about? I want to know what’s wrong with her, that she would put so much faith in you. That she would so blindly, blithely follow you around. I mean, you’re obviously such a fuck-up yourself—otherwise, why would you need her?
What if she did something unexpected? I know she’s quirky, but by now quirky is what we want from her, it’s what we’ve grown to expect, for her to be off the wall, off the cuff, dragging you off the cliff into a leap of faith that will lead to your salvation. But what if she said something you didn’t want to hear? What if she drew the attention away from you? Or worse, what if she used you the way you’ve been using her, and changed?
I have met the Manic Girl, that Pixie of your Dreams. I have stood at her threshold. I’ve been waiting, but her time is almost come. Soon you will know what it is that she wants. Soon you will be made to care. And chances are, you will not like what you see once it’s not about you anymore.
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