Everybody (Else) Is Perfect by Gabrielle Korn

Author:Gabrielle Korn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2021-01-26T00:00:00+00:00

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Throughout that fall, the Scorpio had never really given up on me, despite how clearly I’d rejected her. We’d seen each other for dinner every few weeks, texting occasionally, but I’d kept her at arm’s length, afraid of how serious I sensed she wanted to be. When the Gemini turned from hot to cold, though, and wouldn’t have a real conversation with me about it, I went on a few dates with someone a friend had set me up with, and then I started seeing the Scorpio regularly. Her persistence and patience had become very attractive.

As I processed the situation with my sister Miriam, she said, “You know, how someone treats you is the most important thing about them.” My mind was blown. It hadn’t even occurred to me that how someone treated me could factor into my assessment of them at all.

And, as much as I’d yearned for it, I couldn’t stand to be alone in my apartment. I’d get stuck staring in the mirror, zeroing in on the way my stomach stuck out, overcome with shame. So I made sure I was never alone. It was like Avery had cursed me: “Don’t you think it’s problematic that you need sex to feel good about yourself?” she’d said. And it was.

Right in the middle of all of this, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. She called me at work to tell me; I took the call in the hallway because I didn’t have anywhere else to be alone. I sat on the floor and cried into the phone. When we hung up, I texted Leila to come out and talk to me, but we both knew there was nothing she could say to make me feel better, so I decided to go home. On the subway I texted the Gemini, who didn’t respond. She called me later that night, and we made plans to get breakfast before I headed out to Long Island to be with my family for the weekend; but in the morning she cancelled, saying a work situation had come up.

During my final text exchange with the Gemini, I was in the hospital waiting room with my sisters and my dad while my mom had surgery. Without any closure she suddenly just stopped writing me back. My heart felt like it was breaking, but I wasn’t sure what or who it was breaking for. Myself, I guess.

Meanwhile, my mom made a full recovery. That was the good news—the best and most important news ever, really. The bad news was that the reality of being on my own was finally starting to sink in, and I realized I had no idea how to be an adult. I’d never felt so alone or so incompetent. And then, in January, when I was in Utah for Sundance, my maternal grandfather died, the third of my grandparents to pass away in just a few short years. He and I had had a special bond, and when my

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