Sir Gawain and the Hag. I’ve told you the story. Either your beautiful wife can be herself in private and an old hag in public, or a hag in the bedroom and a beautiful woman in public. He lets her choose and by respecting her will, the curse is broken and she’s able to stay in her true form at all times.
This guy was so handsome. Talking about King Arthur’s knights like the boychild inside the tall dark man. I told him about Gawain. It’s not like he didn’t know.
Then the night the moon was full, he wanted to see me and I said follow the moon to find me. By a sporting arena, adjacent to a train station, under a double lucky number. And he called from the gate downstairs, asking if it was 88, asking me now that he’d found me, if we could look at the moon together.
He came up and he believed he was home. I could feel his heartbeat behind the trembling of his hand.
I want to be with you he said.
I told him. If we hook up, I won’t take you seriously. If you wait, you might discover the best of me.
It was the Sir Gawain conundrum.
He gave me a big long circular spiel. Semantics. Bottom line, he was willing to take the chance. He was over-confident and blinded by his ambition. Bottom line, he made a mistake.
I knew this would haunt him as it happened. I knew what we were planting in his mind.
The next day, I told him it would never happen again. I say what I mean and mean what I say and I could not take him seriously. He was dumbfounded. You were so self-involved, you never considered me. I told you if we hooked up, I wouldn’t take you seriously. And the bottom line is, you were willing to take that risk.
That’s the last time we spoke.