My relationship with Iz can be described in one word – flammable. One day it would be domestic bliss, soul mate type thing. Then a few mere hours later it would become incredibly destructive. Screaming, thrown objects, slapping the works. Nutty stuff, but then again, the make up sex was equally as savage.
There were times when we were really good together, but to be honest mostly it was two lost souls clinging to an idea. An idea, although lovely made out of an impossible dream and an incredibly toxic material. Think unicorn icecream with an anthrax sprinkle.
To describe Iz in a few words is difficult. She referred to herself as a hippy chick or a cyber punk or a rock chick. Being “alternative” meant she would wear a certain type of uniform that showed to the world she was different. She wanted to be a non conformist, so obviously she would dress exactly the same as all other alternatives trying not to conform. This irony was always lost on her.