THE SEVEN MANIFESTATIONS

I knew they existed, but she didn’t tell me that they came with her, that I couldn’t have her without them.  I remember the old days when it was just her and I.  We’d walk under apple trees hand in hand, talking about everything, but then evening would come and she’d have to hurry home.  She was careful not to introduce them to me until after the wedding.  Then she told me they were going to come and live with us.

Through the door they came, Happy carrying a bottle and singing, Grumpy glowering and Doc taking my favourite chair.  Sneezy told me how ill he was in alarming detail, Sleepy allowed me to wait on him all evening, Dopey smoked weed and Bashful sat in the corner rocking from side to side in a state of trauma – he doesn’t like change.

My first mistake was to take them seriously.    I listened to Doc pontificating about politics, religion and the state of the economy and tried to argue with him.  I bought medication for Sneezy and nursed him as best I could.  I tried to lure Bashful into conversation and make friends with Grumpy.  I waited on Sleepy hand and foot, bringing him meals and tidying up after him.  It was all in vain, Doc wouldn’t listen to any point of view other than his own, Grumpy complained, Sleepy didn’t appreciate anything I did for him, Sneezy’s symptoms got worse and not better and Bashful became more and more depressed.  I started hanging out with Happy and Dopey, drinking until the early hours, smoking weed and partying ... but then that became too much.  I simply couldn’t keep up with them and I realised something – where the hell was she?

When it was hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work they go, I searched for her.  I found her walking in the orchards that I had courted her in, a sad expression on her face.  She begged me to stay with her and help me deal with them.  So, I went home and tried to clear up the mess they’d left.  I wandered which of those seven little manifestations would come through the door first.  If it was Happy, Dopey or Sneezy, drugs would need to be on hand.  If it was Doc, there would be a long rant with which I couldn’t argue and even if I didn’t, Grumpy would always turn on me for no reason, that little bastard was so angry. Sleepy would lounge on the sofa and demand dinner and Bashful would just want some space.

One day I lost my temper and threatened to kick them all out.  They subsided so I could see her enchanting beauty and I was suckered back into it.  There are phases of just her and I, but they are becoming less and less.  Each time they return, they stay for longer and she diminishes.  I’m convinced they are destroying her and I can do nothing about it.