5.24 - The Price You Pay
It was the same story. Sure, the details changed minorly from one night to the next, but ultimately it's the same. I was in Grounds for Change, chatting up a girl, thinking I was finally making progress, finally thinking that perhaps I'm not destined for a bachelor's life. Then Dick waltzes through to say hi and in those ten seconds, he made more of an impression on her than I did in an hour of conversation. Chris never even showed.
I went back to the Chalice where I recounted my disappointment to Jamie and Dixie, both of whom had heard it before, too many times to care. Dick and Liz both seem to be on the same page. They're tired of listening, tired of helping, sick of me and my bullshit. Maritza, now that she's back with Justin, won't want to hear it. So who does that leave? If these people, those closest to me, are all sick and tired of me - what does that tell me?!?
I tried to get into the spirit of the evening, karaoke at Bosco's. But the girls, worn from either sex, romance, or at least drama with their boyfriends, decided to stay in. So my choice would be playing second fiddle to the Death Star boys or simply staying in and confining my aquamarine mood to the Asylum.
Last. When it comes to matters of the heart, I'm last. And there's only been one way of living, one person who might be able to help me out of this maelstrom of solitude.
But what's the cost? What am I going to give up? What's the going rate these days for selling your soul? That's essentially what it comes down to.
I had until the end of August to make the choice. And now I'm making it. It's made.
With open arms, he welcomed me back. "You're doing what you need to do?"
"I'm doing the right thing?"
"Hell no, Arthur, my lad, nothing about this is right. You shouldn't have to do it. I shouldn't be able to offer my help to you in the way that I am. It isn't right that you're left alone, good person you are and all, while the philanderers and capricious souls are communing together, heart and body. No, this isn't the right thing, it is the necessary thing."
"I want to be Loved."
"And you will, be Loved."
A deep breath. A useless look behind. Then the question that began it all.
"What do I have to do?"
I went back to the Chalice where I recounted my disappointment to Jamie and Dixie, both of whom had heard it before, too many times to care. Dick and Liz both seem to be on the same page. They're tired of listening, tired of helping, sick of me and my bullshit. Maritza, now that she's back with Justin, won't want to hear it. So who does that leave? If these people, those closest to me, are all sick and tired of me - what does that tell me?!?
I tried to get into the spirit of the evening, karaoke at Bosco's. But the girls, worn from either sex, romance, or at least drama with their boyfriends, decided to stay in. So my choice would be playing second fiddle to the Death Star boys or simply staying in and confining my aquamarine mood to the Asylum.
Last. When it comes to matters of the heart, I'm last. And there's only been one way of living, one person who might be able to help me out of this maelstrom of solitude.
But what's the cost? What am I going to give up? What's the going rate these days for selling your soul? That's essentially what it comes down to.
I had until the end of August to make the choice. And now I'm making it. It's made.
With open arms, he welcomed me back. "You're doing what you need to do?"
"I'm doing the right thing?"
"Hell no, Arthur, my lad, nothing about this is right. You shouldn't have to do it. I shouldn't be able to offer my help to you in the way that I am. It isn't right that you're left alone, good person you are and all, while the philanderers and capricious souls are communing together, heart and body. No, this isn't the right thing, it is the necessary thing."
"I want to be Loved."
"And you will, be Loved."
A deep breath. A useless look behind. Then the question that began it all.
"What do I have to do?"