A Force to Reckon With
By: RDV
“Buzz off,” was the first answer she gave him. It wasn’t too pleasant, or welcoming. But he wouldn’t call it quits. He was five years younger, a regular gangster and a claque junkie. He couldn’t move around without companions trailing after him. He had set his principles far too low. It happened that he wanted her. It was probably a sentimental lie on his part, the need to get a girlfriend or something. And he chose the neighborhood slut. Simply for the hell of it, he said.
For a reason or another she conceded. Why? Because she was a slut. So they became an item. Sometimes his temper exhausted her. Sometimes he couldn’t handle her caprices. She had a mutinous mind, like him, but they just didn’t mingle. There was frequent, uneven need for separation each time they got together. The friends weren’t of any help. They didn’t want to associate themselves with mad people, because when those two meet, they became almost unflaggingly insane.
There came a time, as like anything, when nothing could be possibly carried on anymore. They were both incapable of reasonable thought and weren’t sure anymore if they still wanted each other. That was one reason, and yet there were probably a thousand others. There was a general amazement. Everyone knew they were obsessed with disagreeing with each other. But it was over then. Two months seemed too long. Damn it. But that’s the way the cookie crumbles, so they say. Too much hate could consume anything strong.
He stood in front of her doorstep. Even that seemed unbearable. She looked at him in a sizing up, calculating way. Maybe he was there for a good shot at vendetta? Maybe he would hurt her. She started to tremble. The afternoon lay ahead, long and dragging. He was quiet at first, hands in pockets, eyes cast down. He muttered the words, “Let’s end it here.” She nodded. Something lit up inside her and between them. The cord that had been long severed connected once more.
Joy.
They were speechless for a bit longer until she hugged him. It was fortunate no one dragged him from his better judgment. He hugged her back; she wasn’t sure if he understood, maybe he did, maybe he was only feigning to have understood. Whichever, it was over! The bickering, the nagging, the catfights. All of it.
For the first time she was cheered by the prospect of separation. Wasn’t that something?
“Buzz off,” was the first answer she gave him. It wasn’t too pleasant, or welcoming. But he wouldn’t call it quits. He was five years younger, a regular gangster and a claque junkie. He couldn’t move around without companions trailing after him. He had set his principles far too low. It happened that he wanted her. It was probably a sentimental lie on his part, the need to get a girlfriend or something. And he chose the neighborhood slut. Simply for the hell of it, he said.
For a reason or another she conceded. Why? Because she was a slut. So they became an item. Sometimes his temper exhausted her. Sometimes he couldn’t handle her caprices. She had a mutinous mind, like him, but they just didn’t mingle. There was frequent, uneven need for separation each time they got together. The friends weren’t of any help. They didn’t want to associate themselves with mad people, because when those two meet, they became almost unflaggingly insane.
There came a time, as like anything, when nothing could be possibly carried on anymore. They were both incapable of reasonable thought and weren’t sure anymore if they still wanted each other. That was one reason, and yet there were probably a thousand others. There was a general amazement. Everyone knew they were obsessed with disagreeing with each other. But it was over then. Two months seemed too long. Damn it. But that’s the way the cookie crumbles, so they say. Too much hate could consume anything strong.
He stood in front of her doorstep. Even that seemed unbearable. She looked at him in a sizing up, calculating way. Maybe he was there for a good shot at vendetta? Maybe he would hurt her. She started to tremble. The afternoon lay ahead, long and dragging. He was quiet at first, hands in pockets, eyes cast down. He muttered the words, “Let’s end it here.” She nodded. Something lit up inside her and between them. The cord that had been long severed connected once more.
Joy.
They were speechless for a bit longer until she hugged him. It was fortunate no one dragged him from his better judgment. He hugged her back; she wasn’t sure if he understood, maybe he did, maybe he was only feigning to have understood. Whichever, it was over! The bickering, the nagging, the catfights. All of it.
For the first time she was cheered by the prospect of separation. Wasn’t that something?
posted by Ria D. at
10:52 PM
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