The End of the Love Affair


"You need to sit down, and listen to me."

"About what?"

"About your situation. About your life. About your breakup with her. About everything. You are a basket case. You're a madman. You've lost what little of your mind you have left."

"Oh, that."

"Good Lord, that's your response? 'Oh, that'? For crying out loud, this is your life we are talking about here. Are you just going to lose your mind? Are you going to be one of those sad, sorry little men who walks up and down the block all day, drooling and talking to themselves, and making wild gestures that scare the little children? Are you in some kind of a downward spiral here?"

"Maybe so."

"Oh, you are so damned frustrating. Can you manage more than two-word sentences while I am trying to help you? Can you please focus on the fact that you are not yourself, that a lot of people are worried about you? Are you understanding me?"

"Yes, I think so. And that was four words."

"If I did not care about you as much as I do, and God only knows why, I would strangle your smartass self right on the spot. You try to make a joke out of everything. You don't take anything seriously anymore. Ha, ha, all the damn day. I don't know what is happening to you. I don't know who you've become."

"Just a little painful right now, her ending it with me. It had been over a year, and she meant everything to me."

"Oh, for God's sakes, grow up and grow a pair. You were too old for her, and you should have known it from day one. You deceived yourself into thinking it would not matter, and it does matter and it did matter and it will always matter because you are too freaking old for her, dammit."

"What about love?"

"Love doesn't cover everything. Sometimes love is just a silly sissy excuse. Sometimes love is greatly overrated. Sometimes love just causes trouble. And most of the time, love is not worth the trouble it causes. Look at the trouble this 'love' has caused you. You look like you're ready to jump in front of a bus. You have that haunted, hang-dog look in your eyes like a junkie just coming off a three-day throwdown."

"But I loved her, I was good to her. Doesn't that count?"

"Maybe in made-for-television movies on Oxygen, and maybe in horseshoes, but in real life it counts for squat. She is a real person. She is a real woman. She wants a man her age, not someone who is 20 years ol . . . ."

"Nineteen, dammit. I am nineteen years older than her."

"Whatevah. You too damned old for her. You are old enough to be her, her, her father, for crying out loud. Her father!"

"That's technically true, I guess, but I did not father any children when I was 19. I was 33 when my first daughter was born."

"Stop evading the issue! Stop ignoring the obvious! You are too old for her, you were too old for her, you will always be too old for her."

"Then why didn't she breakup with me sooner? Why did she keep it going? I only got older as time went on; it's not like I started getting younger."

"You are the most impossible man to reason with that I have ever known. You are simply . . . impossible! She didn't break up with you sooner because she felt bad about it, she felt sorry for you, she didn't want to hurt you, she hated it when you cried. Big boys don't cry. We women don't like men who cry. We want men, real men. Not some sissies who cry all the time, who show their feelings. So she didn't break up with you in order to be kind to you."

"She didn't break up with me in order to be kind to me. Is that what you said? And you think that I am going crazy?"

"Look, it doesn't matter that you are too old for her. Don't accept that if you would rather continue to be delusional. But what you cannot deny is that you two are physically apart, over 1500 miles apart, and you just cannot have a relationship with someone when they are 1500 miles away. You just cannot do it. It can't be done!"

"Couldn't it be done for a little while, for the short term?"

"No. Women are sexual, tactile creatures. We need human contact. We need to be touched, to be held, to be made special. So, no, you cannot do it from 1500 miles apart, even for a little while, even for the short term. Once again, I will repeat: you cannot have a relationship with someone when they are 1500 miles away. Period."

"You believe in Jesus, don't you?"

"What in the name of all that is holy does that have to do with what we are discussing here? What? See, this is why I worry that you have lost your mind. You keep coming up with these off-the-wall comments and questions, and you act like nothing's wrong!"

"Don't you?"

"Oh, whatevah. Yes, I believe in Jesus. I do. What is your point?"

"You're going to get angry at me if I tell you, I know it. You're going to yell and scream at me, and pound on me with those little fists of yours if I tell you."

"I promise, I won't. I will restrain myself. I am an adult, and I have self-control."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"How far away is Jesus?"

"Oh Jesus Christ, I cannot believe I walked right into that one. Oh, no, oh no, oh no."

"Well, as you guessed, if you can have a relationship with Jesus, who is all the way up in Heaven, then I don't see why she and I can't have a relationship when she is just 1500 miles or so away. Heaven is a lot further away than that. Probably twice as far."

"I give up. You are hopeless."

"Actually, this talk has made me feel rather hopeful."


[to be continued . . . .]

January 16, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

No comments:

Post a Comment