The Gospel According to Fleabag
The truth was, for me and as for Fleabag, I wasn’t just looking for a good story to tell my friends. I was looking for something so much harder to grasp: a narrative.
trash person . . going through a hard time right now.
interesting you never said this wasn’t okay; we agreed not to be exclusive
that time when: That time when
He told me he wanted a full-time master-slave kink relationship, and also to control his partner's finances, But I figured, like, doesn't every guy in Brooklyn want to mooch off you and treat you like shit?
that time when
that time when
FleabagI’m a fleabag, a trash person; the world is trash; you’re probably a trash person, too. Oh well. Nothing really matters.
Sex and the City’ Girls’
sees mine—in the world
Enter your email address to receive notifications for author Tara Isabella Burton
Confirmation link sent to your email to add you to notification list for author Tara Isabella Burton
More by this author
I had a sense, unvoiced, that living well and loving steadfastly were one and the same. I translated that sense into certainty: Marriage would make me Good.
I wanted to outrun the Nothing. And there was nothing I would not have sacrificed—friendships, relationships, the blood from the heel of my foot—to get it.
More in this series
When palm trees swing in the soft breeze, I remind myself that my body is not an orchestra, and the trees are not dancing for me.
Seeing Nick’s imperfections play out in a way that shows he is not a failure, just human, is exactly what I needed to get me through quarantine.