H - 3 - Z

Chapter 1

You have eyes, but you don't use them to notice things.

You barely even use them to look at me.

They're always glued to a damned cellphone.

And yet you constantly complain to me about your headaches and your neck pains, and wonder where they come from.
I've nursed you so full of ibuprofen I sometimes wonder how your heart hasn't stopped.

But I can't blame you.
It's numbed a majority of minds all over the planet.

The Tech bug crawled into one person's ear, implanted itself... evolved.
It got a bit too comfortable in every host it embedded into, multiplying like a virus.

A virus that's impossible to click out of.

Advancements have come so far the newest gadget is a must have; humans are so easily addicted.

But do they crave the gadget for the convenience, status, or rather the purpose and satisfaction they feel from strangers' likes and comments?

I pity those people... Do they think others won't like them, for them in the Real Life, that they feel the need to create a whole different persona, or even identity, online?

And yes, I had every piece of technology you could possibly imagine, so of course I sound like a hypocrite -

but none of it ever made me happy!

I grew up with technology all around me, and not just because of the time period in which I happened to be born.

My mom is the Secondary Lead for the biggest Systems company in the world, so it has always been handed to me.
I'm practically her guinea pig for whenever she's working on a new development.

But what I never got was genuine quality time and attention from my own mother.

Attention is a drug we're all desperate for, and people will go to any length to get even just a water bottle cap of a sip.
Even if it means doing or saying inappropriate or insensitive things and getting Canceled on the internet.

But I cannot compete with the billions of online users for even your attention, Edwin. And I refuse to put your average-sized penis in my mouth just to get a reaction from you.

Not like size really matters to me, but the size of your following sure seems mighty important to you.

So what's the difference?

Maybe a large following is your attempt to overcompensate for a lack of genital amplitude (which you definitely over-exaggerate)... Maybe it gives you some sense of power and adoration from many online that you struggle to recieve in The Real? Due to an absense of personality, perhaps? Unless being an ignorant, stubborn, wreckless asshole counts...

Could your desires of a large following provide you with the knowledge that if you ever messed up so badly with me, that I'd leave you indefinitely, and you'd have other numerous options of women to fool around with? I could go on all day, Eddie.

You know, I may as well leave a SexBot next to you in bed, in the morning. You wouldn't notice the difference when you woke up anyway. That's all I'm good for isn't it, since you have an entire alternate, more desirable reality at the tip of your fingers?

My mother was right about men, but I didn't want to listen.

"To be quite frank with you, Helena. Your 'father' was a piece of shit. Never ask about him again. Our relationship was hell, and on top of that he got me pregnant and left. The man before him - my first love - wasn't any good neither. Cheated on me, got that poor girl knocked up - A boy. He always wanted a boy..." Mom closed her eyes, brows furrowed, and shook her head. "So, there you go. Men are pieces of shit and we only need each other," she finished, pushing a strand of hair behind my little ear.

I actually had hope, because I prefer to find the good in people.
But you're hopeless, Edwin.
And I think the only reason I haven't left you yet is because you provide me with a sense of company - and the occasional physical euphoria.

I couldn't care less about what's in my hand unless it may be someone else's. I want the intimacies of butterfly kisses and a simple hug or cuddle here and there. I want a deep, open conversation. I want you to tell me I'm beautiful to my face, not just 'like' my profile picture.

The more I think about it, the more I realize how in denial I've been.
You're just like everyone else.

All I want is someone to put aside their phone, or computer, and pay attention.
Pay attention to me, and to the world around us.
People seem to have forgotten that other things exist outside of ourselves.

You're not the only one with feelings. You aren't the only one who craves those positive comments over the negative ones.
I just think they're more meaningful in-person.

Come breathe in the outside air with me.
We can adorably play Hide N' Seek between the trees in the forest and hop across the boulders by the stream.
Lay with me in the grass, holding my hand.
You could even play with my hair if you like.

I just want you - or someone damnit! - to look me in the eyes... and I can look away quickly, because I'm blushing and don't want you to see my face all cherry red. And as I do so, I let a smile slip - which I can't control. You'll ask what I'm smiling at, and I'll say nothing but the answer is always you, and I think you know that but you just want to hear me say it. And I wouldn't blame you because I'd completely understand... Then, for the grand finale, our eyes would lock once more - and remain so - and I'd hear you say "I love you, Helena," in a melodic tone, making my heart do flips. We kiss, romantically, falling asleep under the stars. On the dirt, but in each others arms so it's okay.

I'm not sure that "You" I imagine, is you anymore, though, Edwin.
Not as I used to.
Because you don't ever really say you love me unless I do something of benefit to you... You barely even smile at me, only at your phone. You order me around instead of treating me as an equal...

You can't even look me in my goddamn eyes.