Irony

That’s the logline—the hook—for Touch Me There, the television series:

It’s one of the central ironies of my story. But not the only one.

• I built a life around controlling outcomes. I was saved by losing that control. The crisis I most feared became the moment I was freed.

• Ketamine—a dissociative drug—was my first step back into my body.

• A global catastrophe brought my husband and me back under the same roof. Without it, nothing that followed would’ve been possible.

• His recovery disrupted the marriage as we knew it. My transgression restored it.

• The marriage had to die for it to begin again.

Irony doesn’t resolve anything—it only exposes the gap between what we expect and what actually happens. These contradictions were the undercurrent I kept returning to as I developed the adaptation for screen. They clarified what the story wanted to become as Touch Me There moved from essay to script, from nonfiction into fiction: a dark comedy. Because dark comedy is all about holding absurdity and gravity in the same frame.

It’s also why the closest comparables are Dying for Sex, I Love Dick, and Fleabag. That’s the tone. The temperature the story runs at.

So yes—a dark comedy. For events that don’t make sense any other way.

*If you’re a new subscriber and you’re curious about the source material for this adaptation, the Touch Me There archive reads like a serial memoir.

–

I love you.

Juliette

Leave a comment