Hi, Jerico.
Hi there.
If you have your story in front of you —
Yeah, sure.
I’m trying not to sound like it’s not 8:30 in the morning.
Yeah, thank you for talking to us.
You’re in Australia?
I am, yeah.
OK.
'Manic Pixie Real Girl.'
The first time I heard the term “manic pixie dream girl” I felt a hot shame.
My unique rebellion suddenly seemed small, my attempts at self–definition in vain.
I wasn’t complex; I was caricature.
Always an object, never a subject.
Worse, I loved someone who needed me to stay that way.
A man who needed me to remain a fantasy, forever out of reach.
I stepped closer, anyway.
“Don’t worry,” he said after we fought.
“You’re still my muse.”
“No,” I thought.