87 Votes
1265
Views
Views
Chapter 31:- Chapter 31
You end up in front of the house of the man who might change everything. You go inside, he is not home. There is a magazine on the coffee table. It is “Greek Architecture.” There is an arch on the cover, covered in little stone demons.
Heartbreak happens like this for all of us. Get up, a day later, a month later, a year later. It does not matter the reason you are at this man’s house, just know that he hurt you. He took your pumping heart and snipped off bits of it and fed it to the dog.
You go into his bedroom and you see that he has photographs of his wife and kids. You are angry. You are angry that this man got to be so happy, happy smiling family with normal teeth and arms, when you are like a shark in a pool of blood, wherever you go.
You see that there is a grocery list taped to the refrigerator door in the kitchen: milk, eggs, wheat bread. How normal, how wonderfully average. You find a few journals of medicine. They tell you nothing about why he did what he did. Why he lied or did not attempt to find out any real truths. You begin to get angry at everyone who has done this: turned a blind eye like the Greek God Eros. To know you are going to be betrayed because mortals always betray you.
You remember that it is written somewhere that this man wrote that you do not exist. You pinch yourself, maybe he’s right. But you have this rage. You press this rage to your chest, it is real. It feels like a human head or a baby. There are many things you must discover for yourself, perhaps. That everyone will leave you, and that nothing is your fault and nothing is his or her fault.
You find a little notebook at his desk at the back of the house. In it, is an agenda of what he does when. Birth, heart surgery, supermarket. You find the times that he does all of these things. You decide that the only way to find yourself, is to find this man.
You’re in love, it’s kind of beautiful. It’s kind of wondrous, you had to kill a lot of people to get here. You will have to break a lot of people’s hearts before you are out of here. You see: 4:37, supermarket on 8th Street, don’t forget the wheat bread. Ah, normalcy. Ah, how great.
Ah, what things you need to say. The broken-hearted always do.
You end up in front of the house of the man who might change everything. You go inside, he is not home. There is a magazine on the coffee table. It is “Greek Architecture.” There is an arch on the cover, covered in little stone demons.
Heartbreak happens like this for all of us. Get up, a day later, a month later, a year later. It does not matter the reason you are at this man’s house, just know that he hurt you. He took your pumping heart and snipped off bits of it and fed it to the dog.
You go into his bedroom and you see that he has photographs of his wife and kids. You are angry. You are angry that this man got to be so happy, happy smiling family with normal teeth and arms, when you are like a shark in a pool of blood, wherever you go.
You see that there is a grocery list taped to the refrigerator door in the kitchen: milk, eggs, wheat bread. How normal, how wonderfully average. You find a few journals of medicine. They tell you nothing about why he did what he did. Why he lied or did not attempt to find out any real truths. You begin to get angry at everyone who has done this: turned a blind eye like the Greek God Eros. To know you are going to be betrayed because mortals always betray you.
You remember that it is written somewhere that this man wrote that you do not exist. You pinch yourself, maybe he’s right. But you have this rage. You press this rage to your chest, it is real. It feels like a human head or a baby. There are many things you must discover for yourself, perhaps. That everyone will leave you, and that nothing is your fault and nothing is his or her fault.
You find a little notebook at his desk at the back of the house. In it, is an agenda of what he does when. Birth, heart surgery, supermarket. You find the times that he does all of these things. You decide that the only way to find yourself, is to find this man.
You’re in love, it’s kind of beautiful. It’s kind of wondrous, you had to kill a lot of people to get here. You will have to break a lot of people’s hearts before you are out of here. You see: 4:37, supermarket on 8th Street, don’t forget the wheat bread. Ah, normalcy. Ah, how great.
Ah, what things you need to say. The broken-hearted always do.
