Chapter Two
(Read Chapter One)
It's Saturday night, and I'm still lying in bed. I took a shower in hopes of going out and getting drunk out of my mind, but I went back to staring at the ceiling, and so far I haven't moved. It's too bad; alcohol would be a good substitute for the unattainable Valium. I could use it more than ever now, because the emotional, irrational half of my mind is gloating. He was right. Again. The fucker is always right, but I keep trying to ignore him.
"See?" He crows, "I told you! You were just a stepping stone. Somehow for her to bide her time! She's probably laughing at you right now, about how she gave you a faint glimmer of home, and then quickly snatched it away. They're probably both laughing about it. Maybe you'll listen to me next time."
"Fuck you, asshole. You're probably the reason it turned out this way in the first place. You scare people. You're pure, raw emotion. You're out of control. It freaks people out; they can't deal with things like you."
"if they really cared they could. If they were willing to put forth a little bit of effort. But they'd rather take the easy way out. Do we really need people like that? Besides, she was done with you long before I escaped this time. You just hadn't realized it yet. You wouldn't believe me."
"That's because if we listen to you, we're going to be alone forever. We can't live like that"
"Well, we should just start treating them like they treat us. You should let me out again; we'll feel better. I'll yell and tell people that they're worst inner fears about themselves are true. I know what they are, and I know what to say. I'll make them hurt, like we hurt."
No, not this time. For once I'll say nothing. I won't yell and rage and be an asshole. I won't make it easy for her to say, "Whew...that was a close one. I'm glad I got rid of him; I'll be better off without him." No, I leave her with memories that I'm a good man, and we could have had something great, and she hurt me.
(Read Chapter One)
It's Saturday night, and I'm still lying in bed. I took a shower in hopes of going out and getting drunk out of my mind, but I went back to staring at the ceiling, and so far I haven't moved. It's too bad; alcohol would be a good substitute for the unattainable Valium. I could use it more than ever now, because the emotional, irrational half of my mind is gloating. He was right. Again. The fucker is always right, but I keep trying to ignore him.
"See?" He crows, "I told you! You were just a stepping stone. Somehow for her to bide her time! She's probably laughing at you right now, about how she gave you a faint glimmer of home, and then quickly snatched it away. They're probably both laughing about it. Maybe you'll listen to me next time."
"Fuck you, asshole. You're probably the reason it turned out this way in the first place. You scare people. You're pure, raw emotion. You're out of control. It freaks people out; they can't deal with things like you."
"if they really cared they could. If they were willing to put forth a little bit of effort. But they'd rather take the easy way out. Do we really need people like that? Besides, she was done with you long before I escaped this time. You just hadn't realized it yet. You wouldn't believe me."
"That's because if we listen to you, we're going to be alone forever. We can't live like that"
"Well, we should just start treating them like they treat us. You should let me out again; we'll feel better. I'll yell and tell people that they're worst inner fears about themselves are true. I know what they are, and I know what to say. I'll make them hurt, like we hurt."
No, not this time. For once I'll say nothing. I won't yell and rage and be an asshole. I won't make it easy for her to say, "Whew...that was a close one. I'm glad I got rid of him; I'll be better off without him." No, I leave her with memories that I'm a good man, and we could have had something great, and she hurt me.
Newfoundlands are monsters! In size, not in personality though.