Sarah Jean is not exactly sure when her life began to feel less dramatic and unique and more like a Jean Rhys novel. She left her house at 7 in the morning, with her lover still in her bed. She knew he would be gone when she returned home that evening. She knew he would be very far away.
On the train Sarah Jean listened to very sad music, the kind with swelling violins. She thought about her lovers. How many there were, how far away they all lived, how beautiful their hands all were. She thought about various watches and scrappy pieces of string tied to wrists that meandered over her body late at night. Sarah Jean realized she had never taken a vacation for any other purpose than to spend some time with one of said lovers. Sarah Jean thought about how much it would cost to visit beautiful Luce in France for Christmas. Luce was Sarah Jean’s only female lover. Luce made Sarah Jean feel the most beautiful, of all the lovers, however, Luce was also the coldest emotionally of all the lovers. All the lovers. A wash of dissatisfaction fell over Sarah Jean as she listened to sonorous strings. Once, a man who was courting Sarah Jean wrote that her brown eyes were sonorous. She never understood that.
At one point or another, Sarah Jean always asked two things of her lovers. Never have her requests been granted. She asked politely for them to be blood brothers. Once, she almost got one lover to commit. She had a sharp kitchen knife, but he winced and pulled his hand away from her and the butcher knife, as she sat straddled on his naked body. Her other request is more severe and generally ends in pleading. Always, it is taken with poetic sentiment, or as a joke. Sarah Jean begs her lovers to kill her. She sometimes wishes she had stayed with the one lover whom she was certain was going to take a chainsaw to her face after a hot bath if she stayed with him any longer. Often during sex, Sarah Jean likes to imagine she is being stabbed.
When Sarah Jean arrived at work, ten minutes early her co-worker and old college friend looked at her and said, “You don’t give a fuck about the world today, do you?”
“No,” Sarah Jean Said.
“Nice black eye.”