JONG, Erica

Fear of Flying

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And it all comes out so lame. I love your mouth. I love your hair. I love your ears. I want you. I want you. I want you. Anything to avoid saying, I love you. Because this is almost too good to be love. Too yummy and delicious to be anything as serious and sober as love.”

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There’s no such thing as security. Even if you go home to your safe little husband – there’s no telling that he won’t drop dead of a heart attach tomorrow or piss off with another bird or just plain stop loving you. can you read the future? Can you predict fate? What makes you think your security is so secure? All that’s sure is that if you pass up this experience, you’ll never get another chance at it.

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I quickly learned that a book carefully arranged before your face was a bulletproof shield, an asbestos wall, a cloak of invisibility. I learned to take refuge behind books, to become, as my mother and father called me, 'the absentminded professor-' They screamed at me, but I couldn't hear. I was reading. I was writing. I was safe.

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