I slump a bit, even as tears fill my eyes. Thank god for Sansa, at least. She’s a good friend, the kind that’s always there for you even when you’re being a schmuck. We were roommates our freshman year of college and have been best buddies ever since. Sansa is a stunningly beautiful woman with big brown and wavy brown hair her down to her bottom. She’s strong yet gentle, a loving soul and without a doubt the kindest person I have ever met. She claims this is due to her devotion to Krishna, a Hindu god. But I tell her no, it’s just who she is as a person. Even without her Krishna consciousness, she’d be a darling soul.
Plus, my friend gets me because she’s also a creative and we took a lot of classes together at NYU. Our shared passion has fueled a deep friendship all these years, even if our artistic philosophies are different. I view art as an outlet, a meaningful way to create and bring something unique into existence. Sansa, on the other hand, views art as a medium to express, and even further, her spirituality.
Now, we’re ensconced in my living room with melting buckets of ice cream on the coffee table.
“No more sitting around feeling sorry for yourself,” she admonishes gently. “I know where your mind is at, girlfriend.”
I sigh heavily.
“I thought you said we didn’t have to talk about what happened,” I say in a glum tone. “It was the one condition of you coming over.”
She hums a bit while tugging at my hair.
“I know, but I just think it would be good for you to get it off your chest. Besides, maybe it’s not as horrible as you think. Sometimes an outside point of view can be helpful when it comes to romantic affairs.”
“The problem started long before Paul entered my life,” I grumble. “It started with my mom.”
Sansa giggles a bit but then immediately stops.
“I know, and Susan’s always been a little insane. But still, she’s your mom!”
I wince.
“But you should have heard her at the restaurant. She literally said, and I quote, “You and I have both tasted Paul’s sperm.””
That causes Sansa’s fingers to stop moving.
“She said that?” my buddy gasps.
“Okay, maybe not those exact words, but the word “sperm” was definitely in there, and the meaning was the same. My mom is such a piece of shit.”
Sansa nods, her fingers starting again.
“Not to mention, Susan is totally impossible to embarrass. I mean, if she said that, then it means anything goes.”
This time, I turn around, ruining her French braid.
“I know, right? Who does that? Totally shameless. I wanted to die and for the Earth to swallow me whole.”
Sansa nods thoughtfully.
“That is really awful, but what about Paul? What’s his take on all this?”
I wave my hand dismissively.
“Oh, you know guys. He said it was just sex between him and Susan. It didn’t mean anything. Your mom means nothing to me, and you mean everything to me, yada yada yada.”
My friend looks at me seriously.
“Yeah, but could he have meant it? I mean, you guys have been dating for a couple months now. He sounds like he could be sincere.”
I pin her with a look.
“You weren’t there.”
She nods.
“Yes, you’re right, but still. After all, why would he lie about this?”
I shrug.
“Who knows?” I explain, throwing my hands up in the air. “It just sucks, that’s all! This is such a fucked-up situation, and I can’t believe this is my life! How does this even happen? Most people have mothers who bake pies and knit, whereas I end up with this! A mom who’s literally dated my boyfriend in the past!”
Sansa perks up.
“Yes, but at least Susan’s pretty. Like mother like daughter, which means that you’ll age really well!”
I grimace.
“That’s not really comforting, Sans. I don’t want to look like Susan, and I definitely don’t want to have anal sex with my mom’s ex because it’s just gross!”
Sansa dissolves into giggles again.
“Oh my god, this is too much. Don’t remind me.”
“Right?” I explain. “It’s so disgusting, OMG. Eew, I feel nauseated just thinking of it.”
Sansa nods, looking thoughtful.
“It is weird, I’ll give you that.” Her voice has returned to normal, and she’s back to her confident we-can-fix-this self. “It’s really strange that they dated,” she says. “And I can understand why that makes you uncomfortable. But it doesn’t have to be a deal breaker.”
“What do you mean?” I explode, shocked by her laissez-faire attitude. “What would be a dealbreaker then, if this isn’t one?”
Sansa shrugs and shoots me a smile.
“It can be a deal breaker if it’s something you truly feel you can’t get past. All I’m saying is that it doesn’t have to be because you and Paul were really good together. He made you very happy. Plus, it isn’t like he cheated on you with your mom. That relationship ended years ago, and you said it wasn’t romantic so...”