Thoughts of an insane lover.
This is a short story I produced for fun. Hope you enjoy it.
There she was with her perfect hair and electrifying intensity, shocking all the boys around her filling them with glorious static, temporarily locking them in her own illusive embrace; and, I was unmistakably a victim of her electric goodness. I was.
“Are you coming with me?” she said.
“Should I? I don’t know, I’m not sure, I’ve got things to do at home,” I hesitated.
“So, you’re not then?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that I…”
“So you want to come with me then?”
“Start walking beside me then,” she turned around and her hair swooshed perfectly against the numbing breeze.
I was normal before she existed in this world, my world.. What’s wrong with being normal one may ask. There is nothing wrong with being normal. In fact, I was normal for so long I got so jaded with living the average life. I’ve always wanted to try many things, such as getting into a porno, raising a squirrel as a pet so he could steal acorns for me and having heat-resistant hands so I don’t have to worry about being burnt whenever it’s time for restaurant service. I assume I could doubtless be a part time entertainer as well if I had a pair of hands like that, or maybe make a cash flow generating debut in Stan Lee’s documentary ‘Superhumans’.
I immediately caught up with her and tried to explain what I needed to do back at home; but, I had no explanation. I just felt the need to excuse myself from whatever risky adventure we were about to embark on. I was compelled to do two contradictory things: follow her and come up with an excuse. The latter did not happen and I’m relieved and terrified it didn’t happen. Should I follow this goddess in her unknown path of exploration? Or should I step off it and free myself from all the anxiety?
Most importantly, would it be worth it if I had made any of these decisions?
I never got to a point where I decided what I would do. Of all the time I was exhaustibly digging my brain up for answers, she used to fill it with more questions. She excites me. She mystifies me. What is it with her that allures me without her trying? Why is she here with me, walking beside me? Why am I here walking beside her? So many questions but so little time.
Time is of the essence of life. I’ve always wanted more time whenever she’s around. I never get enough time to decide which answer would suit her petty little questions, such as ‘are you coming with me’ and ‘what things do you need to do at home?’ Don’t these questions deserve time for a rational, sound answer. Maybe she’s really impatient; but that’s fine because I’m not the enchanting one here walking on this dreadfully dull path with a dreadfully average boy.
After years of her companionship, she’s still here. With me, with this dreadfully average boy. She never goes away, I never wanted her to go away because that would be such a foolish thing to allow; but, a small part in my retarded consciousness had been imploring me to drive her away; and, at the same time to never let her go. There have been many arguments which exploded into all-out warlike fights, which sometimes subdued into soul-healing moments of unity. Go away, beautiful. Come back here, stranger. I love you. I’m lying. Kiss me, never again. Please, one more time.
Friends and family, all of them warned me; and, hers, warned her.
“Before you kill each other, please. Stop.”
What do you mean kill each other, I would reply them. I love her. And, she loves me. This path we’re walking on, I will never step off. Alone. Same to her. We saunter, trudge or sprint on it, or leave it. Together. This goddess, I will never leave. Or let her go away. What a jewel. What a fool I would be to let her slip away from my tainted hands. I’ve been called a fool so often for the plethora of ways I use to treat her. I’m not self-destructive. I’m not hurting her. Who’s hurting her? Who is he? Has she been talking to him lately? She needs to be punished.
Of course, punished with love; but, what is love when no one bleeds?