Bereft

That foggy black surface is dusty and coated in grime, like the color of gunmetal after it’s lost its shine. My eyes are sore from looking at that 100-watt bed lamp for so long. I hear the door open forcefully, a repetitive rustling motion and then the slamming of that same door again. He’s left after an argument with her. She blames me for being too soft, for having so many weaknesses. I don’t know if that’s a fair accusation but I won’t fight it. I keep rationalizing hypothetical scenarios in my head, thinking of the things that make them ugly, hatable and human inside. I sat in my car because I didn’t want to face more of this atrocious truth earlier tonight. I didn’t want to walk into the lion’s den. I might’ve prevented him from being stabbed in the gut by her words. I might’ve found common ground. But there may not be common ground to find. He may have been playing me better than I know how to play myself. This may be dysfunction beyond control… There is no good outcome. That light I always see, the one full to bursting with optimism doesn’t apply here, in this barren and deceitful landscape. I’ll have to slip away into my warm and familiar darkness and live to do better things for others than what has been dealt to me. Her tears haunt me. He cried into the crook of my neck this afternoon. These violent lives we live, these selfish and ignorant destinies we fulfill… When does the madness end?

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