This is my response to this post. I didn’t intend on writing something that was kind of sad and depressing, but it just happened and now I can’t think of anything else, so suck it up humor junkies.
I don’t have to be happy, she told herself as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. The problem with relationships is that they are a lie from the beginning. She splashed some water on her face and sat down with her book.
True happiness is not a result of finding someone to share your life with…it was about learning to live with yourself. That is where the true monsters are. They rip at your skin and beg to be let out. Anger, hatred…loathing was the most appropriate word.
She knew her mind was her own worst enemy, but she couldn’t turn the obsessive thoughts off. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Suicide was not an option, but only because she was too afraid of not pulling it off. With her luck, she’d mutilate her body and then be one more thing that someone would have to take care of. That is one thing that men do better than women. They can blow their brains out only leaving a mess to clean up…not a disfigured person to take care of.
She tossed the book down. She couldn’t concentrate on it anyway. Outside her apartment window she saw a woman carrying some bags in from her car. Probably a last-minute gift for her husband or kids that would be used up and thrown out. No matter how close it is to Christmas, there are always people rushing around like a chicken with their head cut off, or probably more like the little red hen, trying to do all the work while everyone else watches and waits for the good stuff.
It isn’t supposed to be like that, she thought to herself. People should be together. Really together, but relationships are frightening. Caring is frightening. The only way not to get hurt is to not love anyone or anything. That was fine with her. Love is pain. There is no other conclusion. Life is too short to sit around waiting for that knight in shining armor to rescue her from the lies that she’s known weren’t really lies at all.
Truth is, there is no truth. Bored and tired she went to her room. Another wasted day, another wasted month, another wasted year. “Merry Christmas”, she said aloud to herself, and turned off the light.