Calling it Quits
Staring out the window in a daze, the singer was startled when the bartender set a fresh glass in front of him. He had forgotten where he was for a moment. So lost in his daydream. He took a long drink of amber whiskey and nearly drained the glass. The show had been good but the bar was almost empty now. Peaceful. "How come you never write any love songs?" the bartender asked with a smile playing on her dark red lips. The singer laughed at that and finished his drink. "Because I don't believe in fairy tales." he said as he laid some cash on the bar picked up his guitar case and disappeared into the night.----Excerpt from an as yet untold story
His inbox had cobwebs. His phone never rang. Most of his time was spent alone toying with hobbies that he could never focus on long enough to get good at. So instead of being great at one thing he was just kind of o.k. at a lot of stuff. Even in a silent dark room, the noise in his head was deafening. But, we are getting ahead of ourselves. Like all good stories this one begins at the beginning.
How far back is that? Even he couldn't remember. He remembered what happened but he couldn't tell you when. It was the day he wrestled with his emotions. Most folks think of emotions as invisible, intangible things. Currents that run through the body fighting for dominance. The truth is they are very tangible. Solid. And they like being locked up about as much as a cat likes getting dunked in a bubble bath. That's exactly what he did on that day though. Those emotions, they fought and they bit and they scratched but he caught every damned one of them. He put them in a medium sized lead box and he slammed the lid. He locked the lock. Then he wrapped that lead box in heavy chain and fastened it with a big, ancient, iron lock. When he was sure they were secure and couldn't escape, he took that box and he put it in a dark room deep underground behind a heavy door with even more locks. And everything was fine.
Time passed because that's what time does. Still everything was fine. He was numb but it felt good. He had a routine and a schedule. Free to do as he pleased with no interference. Some people refer to this as a "normal life." One day as he was going about his business, he heard a strange sound. like the most beautiful music. He turned toward the sound and there she was, head thrown back laughing at something her friend was saying. The sound of that laughter was hypnotic. So much so that he stared a moment too long and she spotted him. As she approached, he felt something shift, a flutter like...no he was imagining it. Nothing could escape from the medium sized box behind all of those locks. They made plans, He and She, for the following evening.
The first evening went very well. Fun was had and the couple learned more about each other. AT the end of the evening, he felt that weird flutter again. A little bit stronger. One night led to another and that one to many more. Each time they parted ways he would feel that sensation and each night it was stronger. When he finally dared look, he found that the locks on the heavy door had disappeared and the door was not so heavy as it had been. more nights together and the door disappeared followed by the ancient iron lock and heavy chain. Soon the box was open but he felt non of the dread or pain that he had felt before building the medium sized lead box.
As it often does, talk turned to the future. They would travel together. Taking turns planning the itinerary for each new place. When the travels were traveled, there would be a big house with a garden. A patio for entertaining and one of those outdoor kitchens that they give away on game shows. And children. He would read to them and teach them things.
Plans were made. He and she were very happy and all of the hes and shes they knew were happy for them. And then he got sick. Not everyday sick like when you have a cold or eat expired yogurt. No this was bad sick. Out of commission for a while sick. Surgery sick. He became nervous. He had concerns. He discussed his concerns with she. Instead of "don't worry" or "we'll figure things out", or "I'm here for you" all she said was goodbye. Now he saw his old foes dread and pain. It had taken them longer to wake up than the others is all.
What to do? Constructing a new medium sized lead box and building another heavy door would take time and energy. Not to mention forging new, stronger locks. He needed that time and energy to heal. To rebuild his strength so that he could continue his "normal life". He did get better. When he was better he didn't want to be bitter so he decided to find a new she. He would build the future With the house and the garden and patio with the outdoor kitchen like they give away on game shows. And the children. The children that he would read to and teach things. So instead of locking them away in another medium sized lead box, he embraced his emotions. Especially those of love and happiness. Like that guy from that old band sang about. Wait that was "Love and Mercy". With a new grasp on his emotions, he set out to find the she that was meant to be.
He found in his attempts that he was a decent matchmaker. He could help his other he friends find shes and his she friends find hes and they all seemed very happy with their matches. He found that he rather enjoyed matching up hes and shes. He loved to see people happy. He liked being a part of making that happiness happen. After a while, he began to notice a trend. All of the hes he knew found shes and his she friends found hes but he always went home alone. Or stayed home because no shes wanted to go out with him. How is it he could be so good at selling others but he couldn't sell himself?
Time passed as it often does but our he didn't give up. On and on he pressed in search of his she. Everyone told him he was such a nice guy and the right one would come along. He believed them for a while. Time kept passing and he kept believing but that belief was growing weaker each day. Before he knew it he was old. One day he looked around and found that he was a lone he island surrounded by a sea of hes and shes. The empty inbox and the silent phone weighed upon him slumping his shoulders and bowing his head. His walk slowed. He still had plenty of he and she friends who would sometimes lift his head above the sea of thoughts that he constantly felt trying to drown him. He loved these friends but envied the connections they had found with their hes and shes. He was still very happy to have them and considered himself a lucky he.
No matter the effort, he still felt isolated and alone on that he island. He tried to explain how he felt to his he friends and she friends but his words couldn't seem to take the shape of his feelings and he was misunderstood a lot. He grew weary of the fruitless search for the other half of his he and she pair. Until one day he finally built another heavy door. This heavy door was different though. It had its many locks on the inside. He walked through it and he locked it behind him.
His inbox had cobwebs. His phone never rang. Most of his time was spent alone toying with hobbies that he could never focus on long enough to get good at. So instead of being great at one thing he was just kind of o.k. at a lot of stuff. Even in a silent dark room, the noise in his head was deafening. But, we are getting ahead of ourselves. Like all good stories this one begins at the beginning.
How far back is that? Even he couldn't remember. He remembered what happened but he couldn't tell you when. It was the day he wrestled with his emotions. Most folks think of emotions as invisible, intangible things. Currents that run through the body fighting for dominance. The truth is they are very tangible. Solid. And they like being locked up about as much as a cat likes getting dunked in a bubble bath. That's exactly what he did on that day though. Those emotions, they fought and they bit and they scratched but he caught every damned one of them. He put them in a medium sized lead box and he slammed the lid. He locked the lock. Then he wrapped that lead box in heavy chain and fastened it with a big, ancient, iron lock. When he was sure they were secure and couldn't escape, he took that box and he put it in a dark room deep underground behind a heavy door with even more locks. And everything was fine.
Time passed because that's what time does. Still everything was fine. He was numb but it felt good. He had a routine and a schedule. Free to do as he pleased with no interference. Some people refer to this as a "normal life." One day as he was going about his business, he heard a strange sound. like the most beautiful music. He turned toward the sound and there she was, head thrown back laughing at something her friend was saying. The sound of that laughter was hypnotic. So much so that he stared a moment too long and she spotted him. As she approached, he felt something shift, a flutter like...no he was imagining it. Nothing could escape from the medium sized box behind all of those locks. They made plans, He and She, for the following evening.
The first evening went very well. Fun was had and the couple learned more about each other. AT the end of the evening, he felt that weird flutter again. A little bit stronger. One night led to another and that one to many more. Each time they parted ways he would feel that sensation and each night it was stronger. When he finally dared look, he found that the locks on the heavy door had disappeared and the door was not so heavy as it had been. more nights together and the door disappeared followed by the ancient iron lock and heavy chain. Soon the box was open but he felt non of the dread or pain that he had felt before building the medium sized lead box.
As it often does, talk turned to the future. They would travel together. Taking turns planning the itinerary for each new place. When the travels were traveled, there would be a big house with a garden. A patio for entertaining and one of those outdoor kitchens that they give away on game shows. And children. He would read to them and teach them things.
Plans were made. He and she were very happy and all of the hes and shes they knew were happy for them. And then he got sick. Not everyday sick like when you have a cold or eat expired yogurt. No this was bad sick. Out of commission for a while sick. Surgery sick. He became nervous. He had concerns. He discussed his concerns with she. Instead of "don't worry" or "we'll figure things out", or "I'm here for you" all she said was goodbye. Now he saw his old foes dread and pain. It had taken them longer to wake up than the others is all.
What to do? Constructing a new medium sized lead box and building another heavy door would take time and energy. Not to mention forging new, stronger locks. He needed that time and energy to heal. To rebuild his strength so that he could continue his "normal life". He did get better. When he was better he didn't want to be bitter so he decided to find a new she. He would build the future With the house and the garden and patio with the outdoor kitchen like they give away on game shows. And the children. The children that he would read to and teach things. So instead of locking them away in another medium sized lead box, he embraced his emotions. Especially those of love and happiness. Like that guy from that old band sang about. Wait that was "Love and Mercy". With a new grasp on his emotions, he set out to find the she that was meant to be.
He found in his attempts that he was a decent matchmaker. He could help his other he friends find shes and his she friends find hes and they all seemed very happy with their matches. He found that he rather enjoyed matching up hes and shes. He loved to see people happy. He liked being a part of making that happiness happen. After a while, he began to notice a trend. All of the hes he knew found shes and his she friends found hes but he always went home alone. Or stayed home because no shes wanted to go out with him. How is it he could be so good at selling others but he couldn't sell himself?
Time passed as it often does but our he didn't give up. On and on he pressed in search of his she. Everyone told him he was such a nice guy and the right one would come along. He believed them for a while. Time kept passing and he kept believing but that belief was growing weaker each day. Before he knew it he was old. One day he looked around and found that he was a lone he island surrounded by a sea of hes and shes. The empty inbox and the silent phone weighed upon him slumping his shoulders and bowing his head. His walk slowed. He still had plenty of he and she friends who would sometimes lift his head above the sea of thoughts that he constantly felt trying to drown him. He loved these friends but envied the connections they had found with their hes and shes. He was still very happy to have them and considered himself a lucky he.
No matter the effort, he still felt isolated and alone on that he island. He tried to explain how he felt to his he friends and she friends but his words couldn't seem to take the shape of his feelings and he was misunderstood a lot. He grew weary of the fruitless search for the other half of his he and she pair. Until one day he finally built another heavy door. This heavy door was different though. It had its many locks on the inside. He walked through it and he locked it behind him.
Wow. Great short. So much emotion - from joy and happiness to pain and misery. Almost able to feel the feels created here .
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