(no subject)
What he really wanted was to sail. The walls of the office cubicle clung to his weary, sleepy eyes, the gray stillness blinding him with sleep. His computer screen hummed the same note in his ear six days a week, ten hours a day; he needed a new song. The constant plague of reports, memos, presentations, and product sales did not bring happiness, nor did the millions of dollars he made fill the emptiness that ate away at his skin from the inside out.
He had married her because it was the thing to do, because he wanted to feel the magic in planting his heart at an altar. He married her because he had fooled himself into believing that false smiles, diamonds, luxury, and expensive trips to the tropics were the definition of love. However, not once had she stared into his eyes.
He wanted to sail away. He wanted to say that he had been part of a sunset. He wanted an ocean to swallow his mistakes, and to drown him because then, he could at least say he was dying happy. The contrast of blue against blue. The sweet uncertainty of a tug on his fishing pole in the early morning, the painful satisfaction of sunburned skin, the raccoon eyes from wearing sunglasses for too long, the laughter of waves at his attempt to overcome the ocean and overcome his life. He wanted something real.
A pen clicks. Vacant, dulled eyes break him down from the buttons on his blazer to the shine of the shoes that give gratification in the form of blisters. The world stands still; even their tired blinks speed to slow motion. Nervous sweat forms between the middle aged lines in his palms. A second splits and he has made the decision; no longer will he live to please the emotionless world. Two minutes later, the Brooklyn sidewalk is roaring past him, and a bus horn screams a warning that he has just lost it all. A smile erupts as his feet hit the pavement with joy. Today, he will finally sail. Sail away.
i thought i had touched him from the inside out. its something i have always wanted to do i my life. and it hurts to know that i failed in that, miserably. and i really thought i had succeeded in this.
He had married her because it was the thing to do, because he wanted to feel the magic in planting his heart at an altar. He married her because he had fooled himself into believing that false smiles, diamonds, luxury, and expensive trips to the tropics were the definition of love. However, not once had she stared into his eyes.
He wanted to sail away. He wanted to say that he had been part of a sunset. He wanted an ocean to swallow his mistakes, and to drown him because then, he could at least say he was dying happy. The contrast of blue against blue. The sweet uncertainty of a tug on his fishing pole in the early morning, the painful satisfaction of sunburned skin, the raccoon eyes from wearing sunglasses for too long, the laughter of waves at his attempt to overcome the ocean and overcome his life. He wanted something real.
A pen clicks. Vacant, dulled eyes break him down from the buttons on his blazer to the shine of the shoes that give gratification in the form of blisters. The world stands still; even their tired blinks speed to slow motion. Nervous sweat forms between the middle aged lines in his palms. A second splits and he has made the decision; no longer will he live to please the emotionless world. Two minutes later, the Brooklyn sidewalk is roaring past him, and a bus horn screams a warning that he has just lost it all. A smile erupts as his feet hit the pavement with joy. Today, he will finally sail. Sail away.
i thought i had touched him from the inside out. its something i have always wanted to do i my life. and it hurts to know that i failed in that, miserably. and i really thought i had succeeded in this.