heart over brain

Part 14

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I chew on the end of the pen I hold and read through the job offers in the newspaper.

Yeah, newspaper, I know, but I already applied for all the jobs I found online in and around the city and received rejections or no answer at all. I am running out of options.

Great job, me. Missing the exam and ruining my chances.

With a sigh I put the paper down and lean back on the couch in my living room. My eyes wander to the empty space the telescope used to stand.

I put it away as soon as I got home.

As weird as my taste in men is, in the end I always find something I learned from every heartbreak. Joe for example taught me how to do my taxes before skipping town without as much as a warning.

This one taught me that I am done with being a pervert, and that I need to get a grip on myself.

And that sometimes ice cream isn't enough to mend the pain. 

I turn the page of the newspaper, and another, and there are no more jobs I qualify for or I want to do. VisioTec is looking for a new accountant. Wonder who they are trying to replace.

I squash the pages in frustration, then unfold it again when I see an article about that politics commentator.

Dr. Jeffrey Morgan, that's his name.

I stare a long while at the picture. A man with grey streaks in light brown hair, an edgy chin and blue eyes. He looks so awfully familiar, which is a stupid thing to notice, because of course I know his face, he is all over the news lately with his comments and explanations on and about the election.

It's an interview, I don't know why I read it, I am not usually interested in him and his opinions. I vote based on my own research and ideals, not what anybody else says.

"One of the topics discussed in this election is family and financial support for families in need. How is your own situation?" the reporter asks.

"Family bonds are important," Dr. Morgan answers. I snort. "I value mine greatly. I am always there for my lovely wife and daughter, no matter the stress on the job. And my son, wherever he might be right now, I will always keep him in my heart."

I roll my eyes and throw the paper on the table.

Could be something my father said. "Wherever she might be right now, I will always love her," I mimic his voice. I can imagine a group of faceless snobs brushing a faked tear away, thinking I died, after such a statement. And not that my father threw me out on the street, is a dirty liar, and cares more about those snob's opinions than my wellbeing.

Why am I thinking about this? It is all long in the past and matters nothing at all to me and my current life.

I shake my head and stand up from the couch to stretch my legs. My brain function pauses a moment, and I come to stand in front of the window to look out at the prison across the street.

To the east corner cell that is empty now.

My heart clenches in my chest. 

No, stop, no.

Didn't I say I learned my lesson?

I step away from the window, but don't know what to do next to distract myself. Restless I walk up and down my hallway, while Elvis sits in a corner and glimpses at me like I am crazy.

I am, even my cat knows.

I shouldn't miss Max. We only spent so little time together, that isn't enough to properly miss someone. But every time I close my eyes I see his stupid grin, the one only he understands, that is so mischievous yet so adorable.

I shouldn't miss him, I should hate him. He left me. 

He lied to me, used me, and then just left.

I stop pacing and go back to the living room, let myself fall on the couch and stare at the ceiling. Then I grab for the paper again and search Dr. Morgan's face.

What is it about the man that suddenly bothers me so much?

I have seen him a hundred times already, newspapers, TV, everywhere, he has an opinion on everything slightly political that for some reason people seem to value, but he never before bothered me. I had barely registered his existence.

My dad especially. A total ass.

And suddenly I know.

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