I lo… athe you!
Life is unfair.
You finally get your pot of gold, but then it turns out to be nothing more than chocolates, wrapped in tin foil. The worst part is that you fall for it every single time, with no exception. I am, of course, talking about my own life, as others seem to possess an unnatural ability to turn things around with great ease. To me, it represents more than a feeble effort. As soon as I show signs of some will to get up, life always remembers to push me back down, with great punctuality. This time it’s no different. Well, actually it is. See, this time, life got tired of throwing nibbles of shit in my face. It’s been doing that since we first met. This time, it decided to throw the whole damn bucket of shit in my face.
I told her to meet me at the entrance to the park. I’m here early, thinking of what the hell I’m going to say to her. She’s the first real pot of gold I’ve ever had. Life’s got a sick sense of humor. The first real one and I can’t keep it. It’s not taking it away from me; it’s taking me away from it. From her. She makes me feel like nothing can touch me. She makes me feel invincible. She makes me feel happy. Not the ‘yeah, I guess everything’s pretty good’ kind of happy. No, I’m talking about genuine happiness. Like when you stop to think about your life and fail to see the bad things. She brings out all the good in me. I love her.
There she is, coming my way. She’s seen me, I can tell by her smile. God, I’m going miss that smile of hers. She’s got a smile brighter than the Sun. She jumps into my arms and kisses me like she hasn’t seen me in forever. I try to stay distant.
‘Stop it, we need to talk.’
She can tell something’s wrong. Her smile vanished.
‘We’re over. I can’t keep doing this. I’ve got someone else and I’m leaving you.’
Her eyes are about to burst into tears. She looks so fragile, I just want to hold her in my arms and make all this go away, but I can’t.
‘I’m sorry, I lied. I never cared about you. I just wanted to get in your pants. You were never special to me.’
I light up a cigarette and try my best to play it cool. She needs to be convinced that I’m nothing more than a selfish jackass. She needs to hate me.
‘Don’t give me that look, I’m not impressed. And stop your damn crying, you’re making a scene.’
My heart feels like needles are being pushed through it. The worst part is I’m the one pushing them. I can’t imagine the way she feels. She looks devastated.
‘Honey, you were just another notch on my belt. I’ve had my fun with you, now it’s over. I’m bored of you.’
I’m lying; I love you more than anything in the world!
‘Of course not! You need to stop being so gullible. I didn’t mean any of those things I said.’
I meant every single one of them!
‘How could I? It’s easy; I just don’t give a crap. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date.’
I push her aside and leave, never looking back. I die a little inside, knowing that whatever she’s feeling right now is infinitely more horrible than what I’m feeling; and it’s my fault.
I head home to pack my bags. My room’s waiting for me. I’ll be spending the rest of my life in that room, in that hospital. What’s left of it, anyway. Life… you win.
Do I pray?