Me and Joycie have been me and Joycie for twenty-seven years now.
I have to really concentrate to recall a time when we were not us.
And that time, once recalled, seems nothing but a long, depressing series of broken relationships. But that's unfair, isn't it? After all there must have been something there or there wouldn't have been these relationships.
Yet those failed where this one endured.
How is that?
I could say that I'm a better person now.
Nah, that wouldn't be totally honest.
We do sometimes tease each other, saying: "Well, you know I'm a much better person than old so-snd-so you used to hang out with."
But setting all kidding aside (if only for a moment), it seems to have something to do with that old cliche about chemistry: some things you mix together and get an explosion, broken glass and disaster all around; other times it's like mixing chocolate syrup and milk and you get a new thing that's much more delightful and sweet than mere chocolate syrup and milk all by themselves.
In case you haven't guessed, I'm the chocolate syrup: dark, rich and exciting.
(to be continued)