Half His Age

“I polish off my lasagna with whatever taste buds survived that first bite, then wash my face, brush my teeth, and pick my zits even though I know I shouldn’t. I get in bed but can’t sleep so instead I scroll. I end my night by loading up a cart on Shein despite the damning ethics of fast fashion, because it’s the only place you can get a pair of pants for twelve bucks.”

Waldo’s nightly routines convey her dissatisfaction and fuel the novel’s theme of The Impact of Loneliness and Longing on Coming of Age. At 17 years old, Waldo spends most of her days alone watching YouTube and eating junk food. Her habits convey the intensity of her isolation. Waldo has no companionship or guidance, and so fills the void with mindless shopping and eating. She is trying to numb her desire for love and understanding.

“Then I attended class with her. And the lecture was on befriending the friendless. And how generous that is. What good charity work it is. How you curry favor with God for doing it. And I looked over and Frannie’s eyes were lit up with recognition, hearing herself in the words as she sat at the edge of her seat, almost falling off from sheer, eager, do-gooderness. I realized I was the friendless she had befriended.”

Waldo distances herself from her friend Frannie as soon as she suspects Frannie of pitying her. Waldo sees vulnerability as weakness, and so regrets opening up to and trusting Frannie over the years, now that she thinks Frannie only sees her as a pathway to eternal life. Waldo’s description of their dynamic—and the moment that changed it—is revealing of her fear of acknowledging her own emotional and circumstantial struggles. She is afraid to admit that she needs others.

“I zoom in on Mr. Korgy’s face, like if I get close enough I’ll see the truth. The fatigue. The disconnect. […] But I don’t see any sign of that on Mr. Korgy’s face. So I zoom back out, staring at the obnoxious, genuine joy radiating outward from this family unit. A kind of familial joy I’ve never known. And suddenly, what felt good twenty seconds ago curdles inside me.”

Waldo’s interaction with Mr. Teddy Korgy’s Instagram page captures her desire for some sense of power or agency. When she develops feelings for Korgy, she starts masturbating to his photos on social media—an attempt to use his photos for her own pleasure. She, meanwhile searches his profile for evidence that his life is a farce and that he is unhappy. She is desperate for proof that Korgy’s social media is as fraudulent as everyone else’s and that he is as dissatisfied with his circumstances as she is. She is looking for something to hold over him—some sign that he is fallible.

“But those are the good versions. There are also the bad versions. The ones where she stares at a wall four hours a day, won’t touch the Campbell’s chicken noodle soup I heat up for her. Mats her hair up so bad I have to cut the knots out with dull scissors. Loses ten pounds. And her job. No matter how much I want her company, I don’t want it like that.”

Waldo’s description of her mother’s perennial breakups and subsequent bouts of depression creates a claustrophobic, entrapping mood. Whatever Waldo’s mother is doing and feeling impacts how Waldo behaves and feels. Waldo does crave maternal love, care, and attention, but her mother’s presence at home in the wake of a bad breakup doesn’t satisfy these innate needs. Instead, Waldo ends up caring for her mother instead of it being the other way around, invoking The Impact of Loneliness and Longing on Coming of Age.

“‘Not a pity dinner, of course,’ he jokes. And beautifully so. Successfully accomplishing what I, only seconds before, failed at. This is how a joke is done. Well-timed. Well-placed. Something just between us. Making light of a thing that had once been heavy.”

Waldo’s internal monologue amidst this scene of dialogue conveys her regard for Korgy. While she tried to make a joke earlier in the conversation and it didn’t land, she notices how “well-timed,” “well-played,” beautiful, and successful Korgy’s joke is by comparison. She is lauding his manner as mature, adult, and intelligent, because she sees him as the clever elder and herself as the bumbling child. The moment contributes to the novel’s theme of The Inherent Harm in Adult-Child Relationships, showing how Korgy is already intensifying Waldo’s negative self-esteem.

“Gwen takes a long sip of wine and for the first time I sense a nervousness bleeding through. There is no safe path with me, no path that allows us to gloss over the uncomfortable realities of my life, or better yet, avoid them entirely. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear […] I know it should be me to dig us out of this hole, but I don’t want to. A sick part of me is enjoying watching her squirm.”

Waldo takes pleasure in Gwen’s discomfort during their dinner because she longs for a sense of power. Waldo feels helpless and inferior in almost every arena of her life. She especially feels this way in the context of Korgy’s palatial, immaculate home and elegant wife. She intentionally tries to make Gwen uncomfortable and intentionally does nothing to assuage her discomfort because this is the only way she knows how to assert herself.

“People always say that bullcrap about how it shouldn’t matter what the guy thinks is sexy, that you should dress for yourself or whatever, but the truth is, I feel sexy when I’m his ideal version of me. I feel like my best self when I’m what he wants. Maybe that’s not healthy, but waddaya want, health or honesty?”

Waldo’s mother’s commentary on sex, romance, and relationships provides insight into Waldo’s outlook on the same subjects. Waldo doesn’t consciously study her mother’s behaviors to understand how to conduct herself in intimate relationships, but her mother’s relationship patterns and historical inability to demand more from the men she dates do inform Waldo’s negative self-esteem. Like her mother, she is in the habit of accepting what men ask of her and of tailoring her appearance and personality to meet their needs, reflecting The Impact of Loneliness and Longing on Coming of Age.

“Rage that he doesn’t want me. And that maybe he would if I didn’t have dark circles or rosacea or acne or curls. I know that there are more obvious obstacles. He’s my teacher. He’s got a wife and a kid and a fully baked life. Still, I can’t help wondering. Is there a level of beauty one can reach where they become undeniably wanted? And am I one lip stain shade away from that level?”

Without a guiding, steady adult presence in her life, Waldo struggles to value herself. Instead, she picks apart her appearance and deems her “bad features” as evidence of her lacking self-worth. Her culture has also taught her that she is only valuable if she looks a certain way. Since she feels incapable of achieving this beauty standard, she berates and belittles herself—attributing Korgy’s seeming lack of interest in her to her ugliness, and thus her unworthiness of love.

“But you’re still seventeen. And I am still a lot older than you. I have life experiences, a context for life, that can only come with age. I’ve made mistakes that you haven’t. I have regrets that you don’t. I assure you, your feelings for me will fade. Three months from now, you’ll be going to prom with your new boyfriend and you’ll be laughing to yourself about the crush you had on your crusty old teacher.”

Korgy’s self-pitying declarations are part of his grooming process. He poses himself as the one who has Waldo’s best interest in mind—taking into consideration her possible future feelings—but is in fact compelling her to contradict him and restate her desire to be with him in earnest. He poses himself as her “crusty old teacher,” which is meant to be humorously self-deprecating, but in fact underscores his emotional manipulation. The passage reiterates The Inherent Harm in Adult-Child Relationships.

“And then he starts pumping quicker, and quicker, and my mind becomes a blank sheet of paper. An empty white void. The Matrix. He is, quite literally, fucking my brains out. All my stupid anxieties and cyclical thoughts, my woes and insecurities, my open tabs and fast-fashion carts, gone and replaced with this. I’m alive. Finally.”

Waldo uses sex as an emotional escape. Instead of interrogating the real reason for her “anxieties and cyclical thoughts, woes and insecurities,” Waldo diminishes her feelings and habits as “stupid” and chooses to ignore them. Sex with Korgy—forceful, passionate, and insistent—has the right amount of intensity to momentarily override her often all-consuming internal unrest. Their encounters make Waldo feel awakened, but she is mistaking physical and chemical stimulation for philosophical enlightenment.

“But I’m not any of those things. I’m hungry and hurting and I want more. I want so much more. But I can’t say that. Because I’ve observed Mom long enough to know that nothing scares off a man like what a woman wants from him.”

This passage marks a turning point in Waldo’s narrative. This is the first time Waldo is acknowledging her need for more than what Korgy can give her. This is also the first time she is identifying her “hunger” and “hurt” as her innate need for love and connection. Despite these revelations, Waldo remains afraid of her own desire and wary of articulating her needs. She chooses to shut down instead of to speak up—which ultimately prolongs her and Korgy’s affair and his abuse of her, reflecting The Impact of Loneliness and Longing on Coming of Age.

“And yet something darker lurks underneath. A question. Is he really complimenting me? Does he really think I’m mature? Or is he trying to validate what he wants me to be, to reinforce it and ensure it going forward, to solidify the version of me that makes his life easiest?”

The questions Waldo asks herself in this passage of internal monologue create an interrogative, searching tone. Now aware that Korgy may not, in fact, have her best interest in mind, Waldo begins to study Waldo’s behaviors and moods for a deeper meaning. She is trying to make sense of his true feelings for and expectations of her. Her growing awareness conveys her personal growth, while intensifying the stakes of their relationship and further exposing The Inherent Harm in Adult-Child Relationships.

“The bathroom window is cracked open, just barely. I grab a large rock from the garden bed and stand on it so I can reach. What am I doing? Is this who I’ve become? What do I even do when I get inside? I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I never think far enough ahead. That’s my issue. I’m so ruled by the present.”

Waldo’s decision to break and enter Korgy’s home augments the narrative tension. She is putting herself in a vulnerable position and risking exposure and culpability to garner a fleeting sense of control. Waldo knows that she is not making a good decision, her self-doubt illustrated by the string of questions she asks herself about her actions. Waldo’s desperation for power particularly trumps her desire to be different because she longs to assert herself within her and Korgy’s relationship, and to penetrate his world in the same way he has hers. She wants her presence to matter.

“‘He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I love him, Frannie. I just love him.’ I hate my cry-voice, how high and shrill and strangled it sounds, and my cry-face, how blotchy and warped it gets, a tragedy mask but it’s my fucking face.”

Waldo shows vulnerability to her friend Frannie in this scene, which challenges how she sees herself. On the one hand, Waldo is embarrassed by her “high,” “shrill,” and “strangled” crying sounds, and she hates her blotchy, warped, and tragic crying expression. She has always believed that showing vulnerability is a sign of weakness and feels frustrated with herself for doing so in front of Frannie. On the other hand, Waldo identifies her “tragedy mask” simply as her “fucking face,” an assertion that conveys her desire to claim her body, appearance, identity, and emotions simply as they are.

“I don’t know exactly what it takes to be considered a woman, but I know that right now, as I sit here in my parked car outside his house, baseball cap hooding my face, eating a jumbo bag of honey mustard Kettle Chips, I feel like one. Or at least angry enough to be one.”

Waldo’s exploration of womanhood in this passage indicates how much she has learned from her mother’s example of how to be in the world. Waldo never overtly states that her mother has shown her how to behave or to let people treat her, but her mother has engaged in the very same behaviors Waldo is engaging in in this scene. Waldo has little sense of what “it takes to be considered a woman” because she doesn’t have healthy, independent, or self-possessed role models; she thus resorts to the best examples she has from her mother and from women on reality television.

“Or maybe I’m making up the glint. Putting something on Nolan that isn’t there. Something that I secretly want to be there because it would make it easier for me to write him off. To feel okay about stringing him along. About using another person feeling good about me to feel better about myself. There probably was no glint. Because Nolan is great. Not perfect, but great, which is better. More trustable.”

This moment conveys Waldo’s growing self-awareness. During an intimate exchange with Nolan, Waldo feels guilty for comparing Nolan to every other guy she has dated in hopes of proving that he is unworthy of her affection. She admits that she might be putting “something on Nolan that isn’t there” to make herself feel better about “writing him off” or “stringing him along.” In the past, as in her relationship with Randy Julep, Waldo showed no signs of caring how she treated others. In this moment, Waldo is acknowledging her own dissatisfaction, her shortcomings, and Nolan’s worth at the same time, reflecting her growing emotional maturity.

“Fuck this. I’m not gonna be this weak. I can’t be this weak. My chest heaves with a cry but I swallow it down and head back to the dance. I shove open the double doors and scan the ballroom again—but this time for the person who does want me. For the person who treats me right. For the floppy, kindhearted person standing in the corner of the room bobbing his head haphazardly to the music.”

Waldo summons her inner strength at the prom by hiding herself in the bathroom and giving herself a pep talk. She is trying to remind herself of her own worth and to acknowledge the positive things she does have in front of her instead of berating herself and crying over the things she doesn’t have. This moment offers the illusion of triumph and growth, while foreshadowing her coming decision to revert back to her same patterns of behavior with Korgy.

“Because last time I broke, last time I cried and complained and made a fuss, I lost him. I will not let that happen again. So I shove my concerns down. And my disappointments. And my grievances. And everything that isn’t my perky tits or my warm, wet vagina. Those are his. But everything else, everything that’s unappealing to him, that’s too needy and too emotional and too sensitive and too much, everything that might lead to another breakup, I keep to myself and I scream it into a pillow later.”

Waldo’s internal monologue reiterates The Inherent Harm in Adult-Child Relationships. Waldo now understands that she needs much more than Korgy has been giving her and that he, in fact, only wants the palatable parts of her, i.e., her “tits” and “vagina.” Instead of leaving the situation for these reasons, however, Waldo burrows deeper into silence. She clings to the relationship and chooses not to vocalize her needs because she fears losing Korgy. She is still convinced that her worth is tied to him and that if she loses him again, she will never find someone who appreciates her the way he does. This has been one symptom of Korgy’s grooming: He has driven her into silence to avoid his own culpability, convincing her that speaking up would only harm her.

“I showered, changed, and put on my makeup with a robotic evenness. I drove to work, listening to nothing. As I pulled in to a parking space, the thought entered my mind. Today is the day I break up with him. There was no charge to it. No fear. No vengeance. No drama. No emotion at all. It was plain. It was simple. It was what I was going to do.”

The simple syntax and diction in this passage enact Waldo’s clear-headed thought patterns. Waldo wakes up one morning and decides—without fear, vengeance, drama, or emotion—that she is going to end her affair with Korgy. The clipped, almost “robotic evenness” of her language mirrors the “robotic evenness” of her thoughts and feelings. Waldo feels detached enough from the Korgy situation that she is ready to assert herself and make a change.

“But then the text came through. The one where he said he’d leave his wife for me. And he seemed so convicted. And I bent. I didn’t want to […] but the morning came and he was still so sure. And I couldn’t help it. I wanted to believe him.”

Throughout the novel, Waldo repeatedly falls sway to Korgy’s emotional manipulation. Each time she tries to deliver herself from their toxic, exploitative dynamic, she finds herself back in his arms as soon as he makes the smallest gesture toward reconciliation and change. The line “I wanted to believe him” reiterates Waldo’s willingness to suspend disbelief on Korgy’s behalf, still afraid that doubting him will lead to losing him, and in turn, to losing her own self-worth.

“I see the weight of him. I can feel how much life he’s lived. It’s humanizing and, for some reason, it makes me sad. I brush his sweaty hair behind his ear and wipe the rest of his drool with the sheet. He keeps snoring and I keep watching him. Mr. Korgy. The one I’ve wanted for so long. And now, finally, I have him.”

This passage uses description and imagery to convey the power dynamics in Waldo and Korgy’s relationship. For months, Waldo has seen Korgy as her superior—the bearer of knowledge, wisdom, wit, culture, prowess, and money. In this scene at the hotel, however, Korgy is “heavy,” “sad,” “sweaty,” “drooling,” and “snoring.” Now that Waldo “has” Korgy, he appears as weak and helpless as a sleeping child. His apparent vulnerability in this moment masks The Inherent Harm in Adult-Child Relationships.

“I lie wide awake until three or four in the morning, my thoughts cyclical and whirring like the rickety fan that spins on the ceiling above me. The mundanity is crushing. The routinization of domestic life, excruciating. A never-ending pile of bland logistics and interchangeable exchanges, each day bleeding into the next, nothing differentiating them. To stave off the boredom and whatever lies underneath it, I’ve gone back to my shopping binges.”

Waldo and Korgy’s dynamic becomes even more entrapping after Korgy leaves his wife. Waldo’s use of figurative language enacts her intense claustrophobia in her and Korgy’s new domestic reality. Her use of diction like “whirring,” “crushing,” “excruciating,” “bland,” “interchangeable,” “bleeding,” and “boredom” conveys how stuck Waldo feels. Her mind is moving fast, but her body feels stuck. As a result, she finds herself turning “back to her shopping binges” for relief. This behavioral regression underscores the loneliness and longing of her and Korgy’s now-stale affair, while also invoking Consumerism as an Emotional Placeholder.

“I throw away wrong shades of foundation, rancid perfume, soured lip balms, blushes with the labels worn off, crusty mascaras, eyebrow pencils worn down to nubs, crumbled bronzers, gunky highlighters. It feels good, getting rid of all the promises I used to believe. The products I’ve tried that didn’t work. Or that worked for a time but don’t anymore. There’s something freeing in admitting that. The failure.”

This scene of Waldo cleaning out her cosmetics closet is a metaphor for her forthcoming self-liberation and her recognition of Consumerism as an Emotional Placeholder. Waldo is discarding unusable or expired products, but she is also disposing of the lies she has been telling herself: That if she does not look a certain way, she is not worthy of love. Letting go of the products is a part of her work to let go of a former version of herself and her formerly maladaptive coping mechanisms. The scene also foreshadows her decision at the novel’s end to leave Korgy and set off on her own—unafraid that ending the relationship might mean her failure to please Korgy, show love correctly, or perform womanhood according to an impossible standard.