Immortal Friend from Her Journal

A Story by Abishai100

Narrated 'claim' of an American housewife, whose emotive contemplations of the past-life of her successful husband, draws in her a theory that he's somehow 'linked' to a non-wife debit.

A tale of personal inventions in emotion/Romanticism, for our social-media culture of lifestyle linked (everyday) dogma.

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I've been married for some time now, to a friend I met at Dartmouth. My name's Shelbye O'Hara, and I thought my newfound life in South Jersey (USA) was ideal, and I thought everything was just fine for life-readings and art and housewife-consciousness. My hubby (Amlan Satan) works as a sports-company marketing professional, graduating with a double-degree in psychology and economics, and having become a special net-activity 'consciousness' bureau-specialist. We live quite comfortably, in a town outside Philly (where Amlan commutes to work), called Echelon. Everything was just fine I thought, until something struck my paranoia. I started to think Amlan Satan was somehow mired in emotion with a memory-girl from his past, a high-school 'angel' who'd become his special life-confidante, and I was broken with envy, friends. This was not Facebook like. Follow along.

Like I had explained, everything in my life was such peachy-clean goodness and comfort, and our (shared) life in Echelon quite the handshake for Earthling-consciousness, but I was nagged in my brain by this unending superstitious thought that Amlan Satan had harbored in his spirit a special high-school 'immortal-angel' for confidante-intuitions that simply made me feel like a 'typical' calendar-housewife of American Homeland bureaus and social media (damn).

He attended a rather nice East Coast high-school where admission rates to the Ivy League were high, athletics (cross-country, football, field-hockey) were admirable, and where he obtained a special league debate-trophy/title, shocking the top-rated rival school that previously tabulated endless debate-society competition laurels (wow). He had a nice school experience, and he hinted to me about his high-school 'immortal-angel' and driven me insane. Should I have posted some superstition-story about high-school architecture/design...to transcend this consciousness feeling of distances?

AMLAN: I'm tellin' ya, darling wife, my high-school memory was simplified Americana niceness.

ME: I have this dream-scape image there's this immortal-angel in your heart whom you mentioned!

AMLAN: I also was a great memory-keeper of my timeless auto; I named my car Christine, darling.

ME: I won't believe now that this is (all) just some personal vindication-fantasy I have for superstition.

AMLAN: You're right about school (in the States)...consider the charms of discovery in my religion.

ME: What...a bureaucracy-reading for social-media doughnuts, to subdue my paranoia, darling?

I got myself this fantastic patriot-storyboard art-comic (USA), and I thought about the chance that Amlan Satah really did have some 'immortal-angel' confidante-lady from his high-school memory, and she'd become his special darling-heroine for some (albeit distance) storyboard for wrought incomplete-distances readings to Homeland lifestyle 'drawn' incredible intelligence (damn). Was I coming undone? Was this the inception of some grand American dark faerie-tale about my quest for understanding...for what made my marriage a 'typical' Earthling dodecahedron (for the Ego)?