and I love you too

the pair of mean ex-friends have decided to become hairdressers and go to spy on the competition—they’re hip and fancy, and I tag along, drag along—they get seated in the window in their matching smocks, and I’m chatting with the woman next to me when she makes some comment about people’s nasty cattiness—I point over at one of the two in the window say, I’m sure that’s going on there. then I decide to get my hair cut, since I’m there, and go slick it down and sign in as a walk-in—the haughty guy seats my unfashionable ass in the back room out of sight from the street—I’m irritated about different treatment, even though I know it’s all poser bullshit, so I walk into the front room and take myself a seat near the windows—and suddenly she’s sitting down near me, looking me in the eye, saying something conciliatory after all this time, maybe even I’m sorry—and I explode. I bend down over her, my hands on the arms of her chair and am yelling in her face, I hate you! I hate you! – and then stop. and collect myself and back up—and say, sadly, and I love you, too.

I’m on the roof of one of the pine river boathouses calling down to tiff, who’s in the river below—possibly in a boat, but I think swimming in that glorious clear water—and I call down and realize my voice is too loud, I’m shouting, and sound carries here like crystal—so I call out again more quietly.

I’m standing inside a wooden structure and talking with an older woman whom I admire a great deal—she’s an artist and very solid and kind—also fond of me, too—that is, until her son shows up, who’s only 20, and falls in love with me—and I think it’ll be okay—she likes me, right?—only when I look over at her, I realize she’s tight-lipped and ask, is this okay? and she sort of bursts out, definitely not!—and I hightail it out of there, angry and embarrassed and feeling confused and betrayed and generally disappointed.

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