most things you consider evil or wicked are simply lonely and lacking in social niceties.
January 22, 2010 at 11:48 am , by Haley
While choice grandiosity was certainly his hallmark, he considered himself pathologically down to earth and chronically on the wrong end of nonsensical betrayal. His idealization of romance stood in almost constant juxtaposition with his contemptuous disregard for dating and other delicate, lady-related activities. Moreover, his few female friends were occasionally targets of subtle derision as he sought to establish a sort of lasting control in order to counter the shame and fear triggered by his otherwise shy and insecure demeanor.
He’d been in love once, sure. A baroque, lumbering sort of love; one which suffered many frayed edges and so much patchwork he’d eventually lost sight of the girl he’d originally fallen for.
Or had she lost sight of him?
Let it be said that surrogate love, however gallantly sought, is an elusive and often disappointing endeavor. He’d found this out the hard way over many, many years of heart and headache.
So, he’d given up.
He’d been the one to leave, anyway, right?
Hadn’t he?
Regardless of his current and crushing loneliness’, he was successful at least at sustaining his own sense of personal fragmentation and this kept him from, most of the time, falling to literal pieces. Every so often, though, he’d wake up inhuman and devalued and spend an hour or so willing himself to the other side of the bed, to his phone, just to call in sick, so sick, to work. These days plagued him more often in the winter, when the days grew shorter and the sunlight that warmed his eyelids and roused him most mornings grew cold and lazy and old.
Today—that day—that Tuesday—that cold, wet, dreary Tuesday—was one of those days.
He thought of her often, but didn’t miss her because he knew that she knew he needed this. Deserved this, even.
Didn’t he?
Category short stories / Tags: /
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