by Lori D’Angelo
At first, being infested with a parasite wasn’t as exciting as I thought it would be. In fact, in the beginning, it was mostly just a drag.
After all the trouble I’d gone to get myself matched with a simpatico life form, I was kind of annoyed that my inner beast wasn’t a little more lively.
I mean it had taken a lot of work to get hooked up with a suitable dependent being. First, there was the matching process. We had to look through pictures and profiles. As with some online dating sites, I had to like his, and he had to like mine. I avoided all parasitic profiles that said the would-be moocher liked to take walks in the rain. No one really liked getting drenched down to the skin except in cheesy romantic movies and wildly popular songs.
Next, they had to review our medical records. They needed family history, medications, and allergies. They wanted to make sure that I wasn’t taking something that would kill him or that he wasn’t composed of something that would kill me.
Lastly, there was the waiver. Despite their best efforts, we had to acknowledge that unforeseen circumstances could happen and that in the event of a mismatch and accidental dismemberment or death, LifeMatch would not be held responsible.
The broker at LifeMatch who facilitated our union said, with a goofy grin on his face, that he thought that we would get along swimmingly. I thought that was a corny pun, but I attempted to laugh anyway. I wanted the good behavior customer discount. Nothing was listed about that on their website, but we all knew that businesses offered perks to people they liked. So I was playing the role of being amiable even though in real life I was surly and difficult.
For the first few weeks, I had no symptoms at all, and I was tempted to call the 24-hour hotline and complain. I would have at least expected some minor symptoms like abdominal pains or diarrhea. But nada, nothing. I felt normal and boring like before.
I held off though. I didn’t want to be thought of as a high maintenance customer. In the event that I decided to go all in and get a whole inner body aquarium worth of parasites, I didn’t want to be the guy that nobody wanted to help.
Of course, getting more than one parasite, like acquiring more than one fish in the same tank, could be tricky. The people at LifeMatch had to make sure that they would all get along.
I was losing hope that the union between me and the micro-organism inside me was meant to be when one Tuesday afternoon, I suddenly began to experience joint and muscle pain.
Yes, I thought, this is the beginning. Hours later, I felt feverish and had the chills. Pretty soon, the other expected symptoms came: nausea, vomiting, weight loss and extreme hunger.
I felt the thrill of knowing that he was living, and I was living, together.
Yes, there were some minor inconveniences like bloating and the occasional coughing up blood. But these minor sacrifices were worth it. I finally understood what it felt like to no longer be alone.
Lori D’Angelo (she/her) is a grant recipient from the Elizabeth George Foundation and an alumna of the Community of Writers at Squaw Valley. Recent work has appeared in Anti-Heroin Chic, BULL, Bullshit Lit, Ellipsis Zine, North Dakota Quarterly, Rejection Letters, and Voidspace. Find her on Twitter @sclly21 & Instagram @lori.dangelo1.
