Have you ever imagined that one day the voices inside your head were fighting, your imaginary friend was running with a scissor in its hand, and at one point one of your personalities wandered off for the reason that somehow you had just proposed to...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
******
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
My phantasmal-like day came to pass and that weird dream or whatever the bull it was didn't leave my now deflating brain in general. Lisa snubbed my existence once again after that boisterous baseball game had ended. Riley was even markedly exhausted to wage any of his attention to me, too much that he was out like a little fluffy white bear hibernating on the couch which provoked Lisa to tuck him into his room.
I was sitting in the living room, as my mind rambled into knit chaos of blackness. It's so odd not to recognize my own character and to suppose that I had totally become a completely different person from the seemliness of the life I had before, that 'apparently' I am madly in love with the person neither I assumed to be a casual acquaintance nor much less accept to be a friend, that 'so it is said' we are happy, or we were.
Why does it have to happen in the first place? She doesn't seem to have any offbeat terrain to deal onto any of this, nor does she deserve to suffer in any case. I wasn't having any contemplations about it out of pity; let's just say it was compassion? I think so. Lisa's grief-stricken gaze bore to me as it had never moved me from before. It was hard to explain, equally to even understand... I felt... I felt truly strange when she looked at me, for it was like she was pleading for any sort of help, or I don't really know in all good conscience. It was very difficult trying to understand her since we don't even talk. I know I have to partake in at least a petty effort to have an average conversation with her as nobody wanted to tell me anything, even some minor particulars of the completeness of this abnormal situation as they all say that I have to ask my wife directly.
Wife.
That is so scary.
I heard footsteps thundering on the stairs and in a silent attempt, I tried to look over my shoulder. Lisa rubbed her right eye with her knuckles to then yawn a little. As I already stated before, Lisa seemed to be tired all the time and I really wanted to understand why. After she was done descending the stairs, she bent her back slightly backward as she tried to pop her bones. She shook her head, and various droll contortions formed on her doll-like visage, as her blonde hair fell messily over her broad shoulders provoked by how it was shabbily tied.
