Ariel Leve is concerned about what getting involved with her does to people.
When people really get to know me, I’ve found they start to loathe me. Either that or they associate all the loneliness and isolation that has befallen their life with my influence.
One particular friend is cause for concern.
She used to be an intrepid, adventurous person. Now, if she has to walk four blocks out of her way to the supermarket for a diet soda they won’t stock at the deli on the corner, it’s an ordeal.
Another thing is that she’s become a lot more pessimistic. She worries about things too. The other day she had a headache in her apartment. “Do you think it’s noxious fumes?” She asked. She hurt her knee in yoga. “Do you think I’ll need surgery?” It’s not just about her either. “I’m worried my cat might have Attention Deficit Disorder.”
I once had this concern about my influence on my first wife, but watching her life for eight years since our divorce has convinced me that it was coincidence.
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