A note about the author and this blog

OK Lar, you highlight all this text then right click, then left click on copy, then you do that again in the blog but click on paste.  If you're stuck, email me, K.  

This blog is about the story of a woman named Larissa.   The story is not fabricated and the characters are indeed real, including me.   I am Mark.   This blog is the story of the life of a single sex worker; in no way shape or form does it represent all women that women in the sex trade.  I would venture to say it’s rather likely this story isn’t unique.  The details are graphic & may be disturbing but they were her reality.  

Larissa was raised in a small city in Southern Ontario.  Her mother was an alcoholic and, to my knowledge, continues to have issues with drinking to this day.  Larissa suffers from fetal alcoholic syndrome which has impaired her ability to write; hence the poor vocabulary in the blog.  Initially she was against writing it for fear people would “laugh at her”.  She had requested I write the blog but a journey in life is best told by the first person, not a 3^rd party.  I suspect fetal alcohol syndrome is also responsible for her inability to study in high school & subsequently having her drop out.  She is also prone to emotional outbursts of rage & anger.  These subsided with counseling but it’s who she is & what she is.  The time I spent living with her was a rollercoaster of emotions for both of us.  I was admittedly ill prepared as a man to date someone as broken & filled with rage as Larissa.  In a perfect world I’d tell you how I loved having her around, but in the initial stages it was all about pity for another person not love or compassion.  

I admit, reading this blog is disconcerting for me because I’ve come to realize that the early stages of our relationship were more about what she could take and run with than about my feelings or emotions.  It also took me a great deal of time to fully grasp her past and her chosen profession.  I think it goes without saying that dating a sex worker, former or active, is not something I envisioned would happened in life.   Until I met Larissa I had assumed I was a free thinker and accepted prostitution.  My time with Larissa showed me I had an incredibly stereotypical view of women in the sex trade.  My judgments were based on information I’d gathered from the newspaper, Hollywood & my own ingrained perception of the world of prostitute.  It’s difficult to verbalize what I “thought” a prostitute would look like but I never envisioned she would be just like the girl next door.   I now count several sex workers as my friends & they’re incredibly wonderful people who have hopes and dreams along with true inner beauty.  

Larissa wrote this blog while in Calgary, Alberta, Canada spending some time with me for personal reasons.  Much of this blog was tapped out on my laptop at a local Café we frequented as a couple.  I had no input in this blog outside of teaching her how to set up the blog on Blogger.com and how to create a post, link things, etc.  These words are her words.  

 She will/has return to Greece and will continue her pursuit of becoming a chef.  Her one dream was to travel to Europe & experience life in another country.  Happily, she’s started down the road to achieving her dreams and goals.  In a perfect world one hopes for a fairy tale ending akin to the movie Pretty Woman.  That is not the case.  Larissa continues to resent males & has difficulty with male female relationships at any level.  She still holds in a great deal of rage about her pasts but has come to learn she was a victim of something beyond her control.  The path she took was her own but that past was controlled by her own addictions and her anger towards herself, her family and the world around her.  The deep seated issues that Larissa had will take years, not months to dissipate.  I’m hoping a positive life will allow her to fully understand herself and recognize who she is.  And I hope she recognizes that her failures & mistakes in life were less about her choices and more about her surroundings growing up.   I am incredibly PROUD of this woman for having the inner strength to share her story & face criticism & accusations from others reading it.  This blog is for everyone.  It’s thought for teens living in broken homes.  It’s thought for those working in the sex trade or considering it.  It’s thought for the men that use the services of the sex workers.  It’s thought for society in general.  

The sex trade is engrained in modern society and has existed as long as humankind has existed.  The pursuit of sex for money for whatever reason will never cease.  It’s an innate need of males.  As a society we need to recognize this and support the decriminalization of the sex industry.  The control of this trade needs to lie in the hands of the women selling sex.  Not in the hands of the government, the pimps, the thugs, drugs,  or unscrupulous owners of massage parlours & micros.  It needs to be in the hands of the men and women that ply this trade.  If you are a customer (pooner) of service providers (SP’s) please reflect on your own stereotypes of sex workers.   It’s not just the service providers that need to press for change; it’s the clients of the service providers.   Be that person.  Let’s hope for a day when buying sex is as acceptable as buying a cup of coffee. 

Please support the decriminalization of prostitution.

My name is Larissa

My name is Larissa.  I am 29 years old.  I work to be a chef.  I have dreams.  I will travel.  I will see Europe.  My life now?  I live my dreams.  Not my nightmare. I used to think this. I thought my life was bad.  Now, no way.  I don't see the bad. I see the good.  Some people love me.  They tell me.  You can do it.  Who can ask for more? 

Are you a whore?  Do you want to leave?  Are you afraid?  You can go.  You can leave.  You are smart.  You can make it.  It's gonna be tough.  You will cry.  You will be scared.  You will fear for money.  But you can make it.  You can have your dreams too.  Your dreams won't come to you.  You must go get them.  So you get them.  You can do it.  You forget the past.  And look for the good in life.  No matter how small.  It's the good you must find

Then one day.  You will see it.  The sun is shining.  And your skies are blue.  

This is the end.  Thank you for reading this.


Luv,
Larissa

A brand new life

I will go. It's home. It's Greece.  Papa's girlfriend comes.  He gets my suitcase.  I look around the house.  It's a house. I was a little girl here.  I had butterflys in my hair.  I think.  My mom hits me.  Drinks too much.  The little girl.  She is a big girl.  She is angry.  Soon she will leave.  Then her life goes bad.  So long it was.  All those years.  Where are they?   I can't go back.  I wish I can.  How much I missed.  I think it's sad.  I go all over.  I go outside.  I look at the tree.  I look at my room.  I tell Papa, don't change it.  Not until he sells the house.

We drive.  We have time.  I tell Papa.  Go the old road.  It's Hwy 7.  We don't take the 401.  Why?  Long ago.  I come to see Papa.  You remember?  He sends me to Banff.  Well the bus goes this road.  This road brings me.  Now I go back that way.  It's the end of this life.  It's the end of everything.

Papa tells me.  You play the radio.  My stuff.  I switch it.  I can sing in the car.  I sit in the front seat.  I send Marky a text.  I tell him.  I go home.  We do this all the time.  Inside I am sad. Before I go to Greece.  It's a vacation.  Now it's not.  I won't come back.  I hum the song.  Papa talks to his girlfriend.  I look out the window.  The trees are changing.  It's pretty.  The houses are big.  I think.  I remember the bus.  Coming from Toronto so long ago.  I am addicted to crack.  In the apartment.  Just smoke and drink.  I am dead.  I remember that bus.  I am low.  I am desperate.  I think what happened.  Does like get better?  I stop to smoking crack. But it's not better.  It gets a bit better.  I am hollow.  No feelings for so long.  I look out the window now.  Now is different.  I go home.  I return to be a chef.  I know it.  I won't come to Canada.  Maybe for vacation.  Maybe to visit two people. 

I think.  I don't like men. If they are close.  I feel no trust. But, 2 men change me.  Papa and Marky.  It seems funny.  Like it shouldn't be.  How can I hate men.  Yet 2 help change me.  I showed Papa this blog.  I said you can read it.  I don't be ashamed now.  I don't hide my life.  He reads it.  He is upset.  He tells me he failed me.  He even cries.  I tell him no way.  Papa keeps me going.  I think.  I can take pills.  Go to sleep.  Who will care?  Not me.  But Papa would care.  All his life he lives.  Thinking what mistakes he made.  When I cry in bed.  I think about Papa.  I told him.  He is the best father a girl has.  In any life.  No one is better.  I make mistakes.   He don't give up on me.  And  I can't give up on him.  Even when I am a horrible person.  He don't give up.  Now he is happy.  This girlfriend likes him.  They like the same things.  They like bowling.  They like fishing.  They like a steak.  I pray to God.  He can make this happen.  Papa works his lief.  Has nothing.  Just bad women.  Me and Mom. 

Then is Mark.  He is like Papa 2.  I watch this song.  It's Eninem.  It's a big song. It's Love the way you lye  The  video shows two that fight.  I watch it.  It reminds me.  It's me with Mark.  I think how I lied.  I cheated him.  Steals his money.  I hit him.  I break his things.  I remember I hit him.  Break his tooth.  I remember.  I take the computer.  I take the cable and cut it.  Two pieces. I am angry.  He works so much.  I will stop it.  I scream.  All can hear.  I slam the door so they can hear.  I know it now.  I am not angry at him.  I hate me.  He gets close.  I can't think.  It must be a trick.  I make him hurt.  I wanted too.  I don't know why.  He just sais calm.  Please be calm.  Then he cries.  Then he leaves.  I hear the door.  It's the stairs.  He will walk.  I will see his car.  It drives away.  He will go be alone.  Have a drink.  Come home later.  And is quiet.  Talks quietly.  Or has a drink.  Then he will be happy again.  I wonder how come.  He don't give up.  I know now.  I see it this time.  He is broken too.  He is empty inside.  I mistake it.  Now I know.  He just wants love.  He holds on to me.  Because he loves me.  It's one way street at first.  Then later it's 2 ways. You have a first love.  It's a boyfriend.  You are 15.  Not me.  I have my first love.  I am 28.  Love is tough.  I feel I wonder bad things.  Will he forget me.  Will he leave me?  He can find better.  Who dates a whore?

I know both read this blog.  So I can say this.  In my life 2 people live in my heart.   With each beat.  I love each.  It's a different way.  But each stays forever.  I am sorry.  I am sorry for bad words.  I am sorry I scream.  I am sorry I let you down.  Thank you.  Papa, I hope you get happier.  You deserve a smile.  You are the best Papa.  You  think you are average. No way. You don't give up.  You are my real Papa.  I love you with all me.  Mr Marky.  You spend a lot on me. I know you suffer for it.  Thank you.  You make me laugh when I cry.  You are strong.  You will get better.  Your old life.  It's like mine.  It's gone.  Each day will get better.  The lady in red.  She is like you.  Your heart will smile.  I can feel it. 

It's the airport.  Papa and his girlfriend come in.  It's a long flight.  We go to eat.  I watch Papa.  He laughs.  He smiles.  This woman.  She does too.  You can see it.  It's love I think.  Papa tells her.  Larissa will come back.  Cook him a steak and potato.  He sais to me.  Now there are 2 cooks.  It's good he sais.  He likes to eat. 

We will go.  It's a long hug goodbye.  No tears.  Just smiles.  Papa sais to call.  Use the computer phone.  It's tough but I will.  Greece is ahead 6 hours.  I will go inside.  I wave goodbye.  They wave back.  I send Mark a text.  I am going.  He tells me.  Good luck Lar.  It's what he calls me.  He tells me.  He loves me.  And he writes.  Thank you.  For  coming to see him.  I tell him.  It's what friends do.  They love each other.  He is my friend.  You see.  A good friend.  They love each other too.  Different love.  Time passes. I must go.  We text.  I tell him.  It's time.  He tells me goodbye.  He gets me this phone.  It don't work in Greece.  I will keep it.  To remember.  I send one last text.  I say 2 is always better than 1.  I turn off the phone.  I put in my purse.  The plane goes slow.  It sits then it goes fast.  It goes off the runway.  I look.  I can see Toronto.  I don't see it for a long time. 

Papa gets a girlfriend

Papa and I.  We spent the last days.  It's sitting on the porch.  Mom is gone.  She don't come back.  She don't call.  He tells me this.  I am surprised.  Papa has a girlfriend.   He has one before Mom left.  He said he is tired.  His life is lonely.  I laugh.  I ask him.  I can see her?  Who is she?  What does she like?  He tells me.  She and him.  They meet at bowling.  It's his favourite.  Shes drive a truck.  She has a house.  It's in the country.  He goes there.  They will have a bbq.  Just have drinks.  She had a husband. But he is sick.  And then he goes to heaven.  It's a sad story.  I think Papa is good for her.  He's a good person.  He won't hurt someone.  He is patient.  His whole life.  He takes care of Mom.  And of me.  Both treat him bad.  He don't raise his fist. This woman is good.  I will meet her.

We will go to her place.  She don't come to the house.  In case Mom comes home.  We drive.  Not so far.  It's a big house.  The old kind.  All brick.  The driveway is long.  It's trees all over.  We park.  A dog comes.  He is Rex the dog.  He is a happy dog.  The woman comes out.  She waves hello.  She comes to meet me.  She has a tattoo.  It's on her arm.  She sais to me.  You must be Larissa.  She gives a hug to me.  Sais to come in.  She gives Papa a kiss.  I see it.  I think I don't know it.  I can't remember it.  When Papa kisses a girl.  Not a kiss for affection.  Maybe family at Christmas.  Her house is old inside.  It's wood.  The dog comes.  He carries a ball.  It drops at my feet over and over lol.  She tells him.  Rex, don't bug her.  I don't mind it.  She asks me. I want a drink?  It's coffee, tea or a beer?  I tell her tea.  She has many kinds.  I take breakfast tea.  We sit and talk.  I feel good.  Not like a stranger.  Papa and her talk.  They will go fishing.  She likes this.  She asks do I fish.  I tell her no.  Not since I'm a little girl.  Then I catch perch.  It's a little fish.  You can't eat it.  Just let it go.  She asks.  I am being a chef. I tell her yes.  She loves to cook.  She laughs. Sais to me Papa likes to eat her cooking.  She finds cooking good to relax.  She sais to come. I can see her big kitchen.  It's got it all.  You can see it.  It's like a magazine.  The pots hang from the roof.  The stove is big too.  It's got spices.  In the tray and rack.  It's wood.  She asks, do I like something to eat?  I am Larissa.  Always eating.  I say yes.  She sais help yourself.  In the firdge.  Any food is mine.   Inside is good stuff.  She leaves.  I get a plate.  It's something mixed up.  It's delicious lol.  I ask.  Can I eat in the other room.  Yes I can she sais.  The plate is full.  Papa laughs.  He tells her.  Since I am a young girl I eat so much.  When we go camping.  I finish the food.  Papa laughs.  If we eat out.  I eat off his plate too.  I do this to Marky too.  He calls me Ms metabolisum.   Papa's girlfriend.  She tells me.  Have what I want.

When I finish.  She tells me. She will show me around.  Her house is big and old.  The beds are many.  So many rooms.  Her kids are big now.  Her husband is gone.  I can see it.  For her, this house is her memories. She wishes not to forget.  She wishes to remember.  It's not like me.  I don't want to remember.  I forget my past.  I only remember Marky in Calgary.  The rest I don't care.

Outside is trees.  She shows me.  A truck.  Pretty big truck.  She drives it.  I ask her.  Her boss is nice to let her drive it home.  She laughs.  No dear.  She owns it.  She is her boss.  I tell her I know it.  Marky is his own boss.  I tell her my boyfriend is this.  I tell her it's tough times.  The money comes slow.  She sais to me.  Yes it is.  She sais here it's bad for 2 years.  You must take all you can.  I wonder and ask.  how do you get this job.  She tells me.  Her husband does it. Her kids get older.  So she will go with him.  They travel all over.  I ask her. do you know Calgary.  She does!.  She has gone.  She sais she likes it.  A good dream is a ranch.  In the mountains.  With a creek.  I tell her.  I go to Banff.  It's my favourite.  She knows it.  I find out.  Papa has told her.  About me. About Marky.  She don't judge me.  I can see it.  This lady.  She is strong.  She makes it.  All by herself too.  Her and Papa talk.  I can go in the truck.  It's like a house.  It's a got a bed.  I look out the window. It's high up.  I like this lady.  She's a good person.  She is good for Papa.  I can see it.

We stay longer.  Papa tells her.  He must go. I must leave for Greece.  She will come to the airport.  I don't mind.  It makes Papa happy.  I'm glad for Papa.  We drive back.  He talks.  He's happy too.  We go for a short drive.  He takes me.  It's the river.  We used to fish here.  He shows me.  It's where we went to camp.  There is the site.  The leaves start to change now.  You can see fall.  It seems the end.  End of trees.  The birds go away.  For me, it's spring.  As we drive around.  I like it.  I learned now.  I hated this place.  But I don't hated the place.  Just my Mom.  Now I don't see her.  I like it.  I think it's the same for Calgary.  I don't hate it.  I hated my past.  I tell Papa I like this lady.  I say she's tough.  He sais yes.  No breaks in her life.  I'm glad for him.

While we drive.  I send a text.  It's to Mark.  I ask him.  How is it.  We chat this way.  All the time.  I tell him Papa has a girlfriend.  He sends a smiley face.  I am happy.  I think to myself.  I hate some men.  Most really.  I don't want to kiss them.  I don't touch them.  But my favourite people?  It's two men.  Mark chats to someone else.  I know her.  Am I jealous?  No way buddy.  I'm happy.  I just want happy for both Papa and Marky.  I want it for one reason.  Because both wish happyness for me. 

Papa sings.  It's a song on the radio.  It's his music.  Country music.  It makes me smile.  I don't like this music.  He likes it.  I can see.  He is happy now.  So what else matters?  

Goodbye

It's Sept 19th 2010.  Today Marky takes me.  It's the airport.  I will go to Ontario.  I have stayed 3 weeks.  Spent with him.  He is better.  Not great.  But better.  For him.  A long time ahead.  It's a good 3 weeks. It's two friends.  As we always are

We leave Calgary.  As we drive.  I look.  I remember it.  Marky tells me.  You must go away.  Get a new life.  I remember how it hurt.  To leave him.  The man that loves me.  I love him too.  I think he don't love me.   Want's a new person.  So he sais to go.  Go to Greece.  As I look.  I can see it.  His words are good.  They are the truth.  It's no future for me.  Not in Calgary.   I am here 3 weeks.  I will walk around.  I can see my past.  Larissa the whore.  Larissa the man controller.  So some good comes here.  Mark.  Me.  The ducks on the river.  Love.  But it's not enough.  Not enough to forget.  The past is here.  My past.  Always my past.  I can't go from it.  I know it.  Mark speaks right.  Start over.   The cars goes away.  Downtown is gone.  I won't go back.  Not tomorrow. Or ever

We go.  It's the airport.  Marky is weak.  He has trouble.  To carry the suitcase.  He will though.  We check it.  It's Ontario.   I will go.  He takes me.  We have a coffee.  We talk.  He gets some food.  For me.  He laughs.  Sais to eat up.  I look at him.  He's beaten up.  Tired.  He will make it.  I know him.  He has a reason.  It's all he needs. 

I tell him.  I won't miss it.  I don't miss Calgary.  I don't come back.  He smiles. It's life.  I must return.  Finish my life. Be a chef.  One day I cook eggs.  For him.  I don't burn them lol.  He reaches. He squeezes my hand.  We talk.  About so much.  All life lately.   He tells me.  Thanks.  To come to see him.  When he don't go on.  I tell him.  Anytime buddy lol.  We have good times.  It's the pub.  Laughing.  Drinking.  He can't drink.  Don't care though.  He does.

It's two people.  Each needs another.  Each is broken.  God finds them.  They give strength.  To each other.  So they can go on.  No fairy tale.  No romance.  No love forever.  Just too people.  That love each other all their life. I know long time will pass now.  I wont' come back.  I know I won't ever come back.

We walk.  I must go.  It's security.  I must leave.  I remember.  Me.  Early July 2010.  I am here.  Crying till I'm sick.  Now.  I stand there.  I give a hug.  I get a long kiss. He tells me.  Go.  Don't you forget me Larissa T.  You email me.  You write me.  I laugh.  Of course Mr Marky.  How could I not.  I wish to cry.  I cry because I don't loose a boyfriend.  I now lose a friend.  Best friend.  We can't be.  But friends always.  Until God takes us.  He holds my hand.  Then lets go.  Sais go.  Get on the plane.  It's silence.  For a minute.  Then it's one last hug.  He tells me.  I love you always.  I never forget you.  I tell him.I love you too.   I don't forget you Marky.  His hand lets mine go.  I must go in.  To the security.  I look.  He waits.  I get through.  I have my pack.  I have a laptop.  It's his.  He smiles.  I look back.  He waits.  I will walk.  Its around the corner.  I don't get sick.  I don't throw up.  I walk.  I think.  I am lucky.  I go and find a place.  To wait to go see Papa.  Now I know it.  The past is over for good.  I am done.  My new life starts. 

3 people matter for me.  Who are they?

First is Papa.  Loves me.  I make mistakes.  I hurt him.  But he don't stop.  Always there for me.  I will see him.  And I call him each week.  He divorces my mom.  They're done.  I'm glad.  He deserves more.  Since I'm young.  He's all I have

Second.  It's Georgia.  We are friends.  She is a mom.  No money from him.  She is broken.  She makes mistakes.  You can blame her?  You are good yourself?   We live together.  We pay bills.  Smoke all day.  Pass the time.  We talk about our world.  She does massage.  Now she don't.  She got smart.  She went home.  To her mom.  She will go to school.  It's in Sasketoon.   I am happy.  She can do more.

Third.  It's Marky.  We meet in a funny way.  He helps me.  My car is broken.  9 months we have.  Plus 3 weeks.  Is it good?  Sometimes.  We fight.  We scream.  Dishes get broken.  I hit him.  I break his face and tooth.  I make him.  He goes and sits at the river.  He cries. But he don't go.  I change too.  I learn. I can love.  He is weak.  Soft inside.  Him and I?  Not long.  But is a lifetime.  We change each other.  He is a lover.  He is my best friend. 

The airplane waits.  It goes fast and we go up.  I see out the window.  The mountains.  Now some snow.  Calgary.  It's my home.  A long time.  But this picture I see.  It's the last.  I don't come back.  Now is a new life.  I pray.  I thank God.  It's God that gives me gifts.  My family.  My friends.  Those that love me.  Those that don't give up.  I will go.  I will finihs.  Larissa will be a chef.  On Food TV one day.  The plane flies.  I think I will see Papa.

I write this in Ontario.  I write it at my house.  It's my room.  Mom is gone.  She don't come here.  Just me and Papa.  He must sleep.  He will work tomorrow.  I sit alone.  In the quiet.  I listen to the radio.  It's on the computer.  It's Calgary.  I wonder.  What do you do Marky.  At home.  On the computer like always.  The cars go by.  You close the window annoyed lol.  The fan blows outside.  My heart don't cry.  Instead it smiles.  I hope his heart does too.

I will sleep now.  Just a few days here.  Then Greece.  Just a few more things to say.  Then I am finished.

to drink

Life here done.  I drink lol.  It's a good time.  I can laugh.  I laugh at them.  I have a good time.  It's life.  I will go home soon.  For now.  I laugh at them. 

Alejandro

We can go out.  It's like before.  Way back.  We go to Original Joes.  We sit.  It's like before.  It's where the tattoo girl is.  We don't get her.  Instead it's red hair.  I know Marky lol.  He wants her lol.  She asks, drinks?  We get some.  I say to him.  You like her still.  He laughs.  He would pay for her. 5 browns lol.  She ask.  You want food.  Mark puts hand on head.  He goes.  She wants a burger.  Pasta salad.  Garlic potato.  I laugh.  Yes you can read my mind.  He gets it too. 

We talk.  He tells me.  He's done. He must start a new life.  He is tuckered out.  Tired of it.  I know this feeling.  He tells me.  He can sleep now.  Don't wake up so much.  I can see.  A new life.  I ask him.  You are scared?  Nope he sais.  He is just glad.  Should have gone before.  Long ago.  He tells me.  You hang on.  It's what you got.  What you know.  He sais it looks good.  He will get back up.  Then go on his journey.  Just like me.  I ask him.  Will you stay here?  He sais for now. 

We talk about Greece.  I tell him how it is.  I tell him about Tat.  I tell him I can cook eggs.  Maybe I will do this.  He laughs.  How about Nellies instead lol.  The fire department is busy.  It's funny.  I burn cooking so much.  Now I know it.  Not so much but some.  I like it.  To sit her. 

When I go to therapy.  The lady tells me.  Mark isn't just a boyfriend.  He's like Papa.  It's some why I am attached.  He's both.  She tells me this.  It reminds me.  Its a song.  Lady Gaga.  Alejandro.  She sings "but her boyfriend is like a dad".  I think.  Our love is forever.  But us together isn't.  I must go my way.  Him his way.  It's 9 months only.  But each gives to the other.  I am broken.  He pushes me.  Get up.  Fight.  Be strong.  You ain't a whore.  Stop this word.  For him.  I make his heart soft again.  Before he don't like women.  Sick of them. He will be single always.  But now it's different.  His heart is softer now.  It will be hurt again.  Its love.  But it will be stronger.   We come together.  Only God knows why.  But each starts a new life.  It comes from each other.  Should I be sad?  I should cry.  I don't cry.  Instead I thank God.  God gives me a wish.  Two people are healing.  I watch him.  He has a drink.  I smile at him.  He sais what.  I smile more.  I say nothing. 

Some read this.  They think it's a good ending.  The prince and the princess.  Together in the castle.  As a girl you dream it.  As a woman?  It's not real.  No fairytale comes.  Life aint this way.  What will happen?  I will go to Greece.  Marky will go on.  Start life.  Pick up his pieces.  This time.  I won't cry goodbye.  I will smile.  It's not a fairytale.  Instead it's a beautiful dream.  And I can live it.  Not forever.  But I live it.