Gray Skies

My reasoning

Chapter 7

My reasoning

Another tiring day at work, Sharon was nice to me, we talked about family, and how I have no sisters and her no daughters. She’s always wanted a daughter, ended up with 3 sons. Bit like my parents. They tried for a girl after the second boy, tried 3 more times infact. They were unsuccessful, yet joyous after each defeat against Gods will.

I retired to bed, the gym session was tiring and my back aches from the lateral pull downs in the poxy £3 per month gym. The rotating fan doesn’t rotate, or even give out any air for that matter, just sits there and whirs, like an old man, too weak to rock on his creaking chair, announcing his brave stories about his days in Vietnam.

I wish my little brother was here, I’d get him to walk on my back while I lie on my chest, he’s just the right weight, not too heavy not too light, I swear he wears some sort of massaging shoes every time because the knots always disappear.

Thoughtless, my hands and feet on either side of me, my toes and curled fingers peeking at the wooden floor from the edge of the naked bed frame, I continue sinking into the newly bought futon, it still smells new. Staring at the low white ceiling, a daddy long leg tries to fly graciously, like a butterfly, failing miserably as it crashes at every opportunity, face first into the lid of my bedroom light, probably still warm from its last abuse from the energy saving florescent light bulb.

I hate creepy crawlies, if I wasn’t scared of em id grab the bastards by their little heads and pull the legs out one by one, leave em sprawling,. Probably make me feel better, superior, like I have control over someone’s life, if not my own. That oughta teach em to turn up uninvited into my space. This is my room, my time, let me be.

I’m not going to talk to anyone anymore, I just can’t deal with people’s questions, I’m not good at lying and I’m certainly not going to pretend that everything’s ok. It’s not, I’m not ok and it’s not going to be ok. Why do they bother asking you? Its not like its going to make a difference, fair enough they are being supportive, but really, do they even know what they are supporting? It’s nothing personal, Stop asking me if I’m ok, if you do find out I’m not, don’t ask me and try and help me, you can’t. Please, I just don’t want to talk. I’m sorry, I hope you understand.

It’s been a few days since anyone’s called me. No ones bothered to find out if I’m ok. I know I would have. My friends stand infront of me, as if in an identity parade or asking for parole pleading their case one by one, I point my finger at each one, denying them their rights.

YOU are too much of a happy person, YOU are too nosy, YOU just make me feel worse, YOU’RE life if just perfect, I cant help YOU anymore, look at me! How do I help you? You! You call yourself a friend? Look how long I’ve been like this and you didn’t even know, and YOU! You, I don’t know about you, I can’t have favourites, so you’re just going to have to stay with the rest, I don’t want them thinking that I’m avoiding just them now do I?

Just leave me alone, please, all of you come with some sort of link to what’s bothering me. I know I don’t know what’s bothering me. You just remind me that I just can’t shake off my past, you are part of my past and you are going to shape the future to some extent. The same part she is part of, the same past when I couldn’t get a job. I want to start new, I want to try.

I try to sleep, checking my phone again for a text or call incase I missed it while I brushed my teeth. I shut my eyes, hoping I stop taking these pills, hoping to see an orange glow from behind my eye lids caused by the bright light of the phone when she texts, ending each sentence with “I love you”, hoping to hear the sound of the Nokia tune it plays when she calls me, hoping this day comes to an end…hoping this mood I’m in dies with the moon in the morning.