
She could no longer fantasize about being with a woman without simultaneously fantasizing about being her, the two thoughts intrinsically bound up in each other. She longed to dissolve into a diaspora of herself, her molecules, a part of every woman she had seen on the sidewalk or in the store or on a magazine cover, every woman she had longed to understand on some level she felt frustrated in her inability to articulate. She wanted to tell them how lucky they were. She knew they wouldn’t get it.
page 125, Erica



