I knew it didn’t matter what happened with Anna. Though I needed her more than ever to help me through, I was prepared for her to love me or leave me, to destroy me on the wheel of sex, to crush my heart to dust: I no longer felt I could control it, or her, or even that I should. We can’t live with our foot over the mine. We can’t. For the first time since my youth I was unshackled. I had love, even though it scorched me.
You let go. It’s as simple and as complicated as Antonia had told me. You cry. You come. You sing. You laugh. You scream. You let go. No one needs to hang on to a first edition. Whoever wrote it; even if it was Moses.
How to Make Friends with Demons
Graham Joyce 2010