Spending time with her always ends up awkward. It’s the kind of awkward that make me feel happy and strange because I’m not sure why no matter what we are doing or where we are I feel happy like I do when I’m with my sister. I never regret anything I say when I am with her. We wrote each other letters for an entire year before I ever met her. Sometimes I get so excited about having a friend like her I am filled with the urge to head butt her or push her suddenly, but I don’t because I don’t like the idea of making her feel bad or confused. She is a bizarre person. Tiny and a little spooky. Sometimes I think if anyone I know is capable of passionate murder, it would most likely be her.
She took me to karaoke bar under the Chelsea hotel one night. We didn’t like the other people there, and the bar tender was flirting with us while we were trying to share our life stories with each other. She always wears all black and drinks wine slowly. She does not think she is good at anything, and it makes me mad that it is obvious that I can’t convince her otherwise. She talks about wanting a pet bat and sometimes listens to Mary J. Blige in a way that is not even a little ironic.
That night she kept trying to talk me into singing karaoke. It was not going to happen. I didn’t want to be stared at. She thought making an example of herself and being brave would get me to do it. I like that she was encouraging me by putting herself at risk, it was a generous way to make someone comfortable and that’s when I first realized that she was a really good person. She timidly got up on the stage and Liza Minnelli from Cabaret started playing. She was smoking a cigarette even though it wasn’t allowed. She closed her eyes and started singing. I had no idea she had a pretty voice. She drowned all the rest of us out and held the microphone like it was a life support machine. She liked being looked at; you could tell she was absorbing some sort of peace from it. Two men sitting near me asked me if I knew her and I felt exceptionally proud to say yes. I wanted badly to shrink her down and keep her in my pocket. I thought about building her a spooky little dollhouse and making her feel safe and finding her a nice spooky little skinny boyfriend and shrinking him down too. They could have a teeny tiny little spooky family and stay small and safe and happy and I could take her with me in my pocket when I needed emotional support for something, or when I went on a date I wasn’t sure about so she could help me size up the boy.
She could have stayed up on that stage indefinitely and I would have been curious for the rest of my life about her and what she must be thinking and feeling at any given time.