the whirlpool, and then $oat. For a long time, when I tried to hide Ricky's illness, I didn't know that I was "fighting a hopeless war against the whirlpool. Until I gave in, until I realized that it was impossible to hide, that people weren't asking me questions, not because they hadn't noticed the change in her, but because I avoided talking about it. They didn't want to embarrass me. It was no longer possible to dismiss her strange behaviour and vague answers. It was clear that something was wrong.
Love changed just as Ricky changed and as I changed, but contrary to what one might think, it was charged with powers I had never known before. Out of the agony and hopeless struggle with the disease, grew a love mixed with compassion and frustration and longing for Ricky that was fading from me. The love of someone who holds on to his beloved with all his might so that she would not fall into the underworld.
