5.23 - A Conversation With a Ghost
The Brain came back to me. In the same way as college students from Allegheny bumping into one another in New York City, we didn't expect to see one another again, but we did. The recent agony of my life has begun to press against me steadily. It's not painful, but it's worrisome.
He saw me, in black and green, wearing the same colors like a banner into the fray of life. I saw him, a shadow of a memory half-forgotten. We regarded one another warily, half-fearing, half-hoping we'd meet again. Taking in my beaten, somber countenance, he observed the obvious.
"You're not a villain anymore."
"No," I said, "I gave it up for lent."
A wan smile. "Are you happier now? Do you feel better about life now that you've shed the life outside the law? Does helping people and being a nice guy fill you with the existential virtue you craved and thought would heal you?"
"I'm getting by. I have friends, a budding career, the makings of a good person."
"But are you happy?"
"Sure."
"Are you loved?"
"My friends love me, my family does...though I'm still trying to place that in my heirarchy...yes, I'm loved."
"That's not what I meant, sport. Are you Loved?"
"Oh, that. No, I'm lacking that just now."
"So you're too busy, eh. You have such a crazy life that all the keen boys and girls pass under your radar."
"I wish. I'm single by default."
"Single is your default, don't you know that? Haven't you always known that? You're the Ugly Duckling. You're Quasimodo. You're the Phantom of the Opera." A bark of laughter. "Not even, the Phantom was a villain, you've given that up. You're a pitiful, lonely figure - likely to remain so - and for what? You don't get to live blissfully, you don't get to meet a special someone and be happy, your choice is to be celibate or to steal Love, obtain it by the villainy that was your cradle in adolescence. But you'd rather be single."
Shake of the head, in denial of the accusation rather than the facts. "I wouldn't rather be single. But I'm not going to stoop to the old ways in order to get it. I'm a nice guy, it'll happen."
"Nice guys finish last. Last, Arthur! When in your fractured existence in this broken world have you ever been last, other than when it comes to matters of the heart! You think if you toe the line, follow the rules, care about people and hope they give you half the consideration you give them - that somehow you'll come out on top. Wake up, sport, it doesn't work like that."
"You don't know that."
"You don't know I'm wrong."
"But I'm pretty damn sure I'm right."
"Do you want to be right? Or do you want to be Loved?"
Silence.
"By now, you should know damn well that they're mutually exclusive. Love comes with a price. Deceit. Pain. Betrayal. Violation. Collateral damage. You can't be in Love and be right. You can have love, but you don't want that. You want Love and won't settle for less."
"I want Love."
"But you're too much of a fucking pussy to do what is necessary. It might be wrong, it probably is, but it's also most likely necessary, Arthur!"
"Is that all it's about? What's necessary. What's the price you pay?"
"I can see right through to you, Arthur Wenzel, and you know it. As much as you've tried to forget that coil of your personality, neglect and abuse it, channel it into more 'productive avenues', it won't serve you. Nor do you serve it. You can choose to work with it on it's terms, use your talents as a villain, or consign yourself to a little low-ceiling life. Maybe Liz and Jamie will give you their cat when they're married and you're a lonely old man."
"It's not so simple, it's not just me wanting...it's about..." Too late, already confessed it.
"This isn't about qualms of right, wrong, or necessary at all! My dear Arthur, this is about the Girl."
"Shut up."
"I should have known. You're not over her and unless I miss my guess, you're itching for the excuse to try for her again."
"Shut up!"
"This is about..."
"I kill you."
"Already did that, champ. Just say it and I'll go, this is about..."
"The Girl."
Victory? "I'll be in Meadville for the rest of the month. Do think on this. Either proceed on the high road toward eternal sainthood and virginity or quit the experiment of virtue and come back to villainy. I can help you. I've been 'Brain-storming' since I've been away."
"I might decide right now if villainy means enduring your horrible puns."
"Maybe so, maybe no. Think on it. You'll have until the end of August."
He saw me, in black and green, wearing the same colors like a banner into the fray of life. I saw him, a shadow of a memory half-forgotten. We regarded one another warily, half-fearing, half-hoping we'd meet again. Taking in my beaten, somber countenance, he observed the obvious.
"You're not a villain anymore."
"No," I said, "I gave it up for lent."
A wan smile. "Are you happier now? Do you feel better about life now that you've shed the life outside the law? Does helping people and being a nice guy fill you with the existential virtue you craved and thought would heal you?"
"I'm getting by. I have friends, a budding career, the makings of a good person."
"But are you happy?"
"Sure."
"Are you loved?"
"My friends love me, my family does...though I'm still trying to place that in my heirarchy...yes, I'm loved."
"That's not what I meant, sport. Are you Loved?"
"Oh, that. No, I'm lacking that just now."
"So you're too busy, eh. You have such a crazy life that all the keen boys and girls pass under your radar."
"I wish. I'm single by default."
"Single is your default, don't you know that? Haven't you always known that? You're the Ugly Duckling. You're Quasimodo. You're the Phantom of the Opera." A bark of laughter. "Not even, the Phantom was a villain, you've given that up. You're a pitiful, lonely figure - likely to remain so - and for what? You don't get to live blissfully, you don't get to meet a special someone and be happy, your choice is to be celibate or to steal Love, obtain it by the villainy that was your cradle in adolescence. But you'd rather be single."
Shake of the head, in denial of the accusation rather than the facts. "I wouldn't rather be single. But I'm not going to stoop to the old ways in order to get it. I'm a nice guy, it'll happen."
"Nice guys finish last. Last, Arthur! When in your fractured existence in this broken world have you ever been last, other than when it comes to matters of the heart! You think if you toe the line, follow the rules, care about people and hope they give you half the consideration you give them - that somehow you'll come out on top. Wake up, sport, it doesn't work like that."
"You don't know that."
"You don't know I'm wrong."
"But I'm pretty damn sure I'm right."
"Do you want to be right? Or do you want to be Loved?"
Silence.
"By now, you should know damn well that they're mutually exclusive. Love comes with a price. Deceit. Pain. Betrayal. Violation. Collateral damage. You can't be in Love and be right. You can have love, but you don't want that. You want Love and won't settle for less."
"I want Love."
"But you're too much of a fucking pussy to do what is necessary. It might be wrong, it probably is, but it's also most likely necessary, Arthur!"
"Is that all it's about? What's necessary. What's the price you pay?"
"I can see right through to you, Arthur Wenzel, and you know it. As much as you've tried to forget that coil of your personality, neglect and abuse it, channel it into more 'productive avenues', it won't serve you. Nor do you serve it. You can choose to work with it on it's terms, use your talents as a villain, or consign yourself to a little low-ceiling life. Maybe Liz and Jamie will give you their cat when they're married and you're a lonely old man."
"It's not so simple, it's not just me wanting...it's about..." Too late, already confessed it.
"This isn't about qualms of right, wrong, or necessary at all! My dear Arthur, this is about the Girl."
"Shut up."
"I should have known. You're not over her and unless I miss my guess, you're itching for the excuse to try for her again."
"Shut up!"
"This is about..."
"I kill you."
"Already did that, champ. Just say it and I'll go, this is about..."
"The Girl."
Victory? "I'll be in Meadville for the rest of the month. Do think on this. Either proceed on the high road toward eternal sainthood and virginity or quit the experiment of virtue and come back to villainy. I can help you. I've been 'Brain-storming' since I've been away."
"I might decide right now if villainy means enduring your horrible puns."
"Maybe so, maybe no. Think on it. You'll have until the end of August."