tygerblade

I don't really consider this one a short story, because there's not enough imagry in it. But perhaps it could be considered an essay....

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Disappointment leaves an aftertaste, sort of like burgers. It's not always bitter like they say. But what aftertaste is ever pleasant? I struggle to convince myself to head to the bathroom and brush my teeth. But I know the toothpaste cannot mask the taste.

I fell in love with her on the way to a resteraunt. Barney's Gourmet Burgers. You could get any flavor of burger there you could ever want. Hawaiian burgers, Swiss Alp burgers, chocolate Burgers, romance burgers. She was a vegatarian, but they had those as well. There wasn't enough room in the car, so she ploped down in my lap, and complained about my keys poking her in naughty places. They were actually my keys, though by the way my heart raced it was hard to tell. I held her loosely in my arms to keep her from falling as we turned. From that moment I knew she belonged there forever.

My friends who were driving had told me about her boyfriend. How much of an asshole he was, how they wanted him gone from their lives. She had once been heavily into hardcore drugs, and he was leading her back into that lifestyle. But his worst crime of all was being a car salesman. They wanted me to steal her away from him. They knew I would never treat her wrong.


But one look into her beautiful brown eyes as she perched in my lap brought me despair. She was perfect. Not in the traditional sense, of course. There was plenty wrong with her, and I could see it there in her eyes. Her pain was hidden, disguised in the shadows. She never showed it. She laughed and joked and flirted. I can't remember a word she said, because my mind was elsewhere. Eyes are windows, and to me hers were wide open. I could see selfishness and flakiness and viscious cruelty. She could fake emotions that would never touch her heart. She had it in her to be an utterly spoiled bitch, and often was. But she was perfect. Perfect for me. I, who never opened up to anyone, could talk to her about anything in the world, and she would accept me, and love me for it. All of my quirks and insanities would be welcomed by her as lovely treasures. I could see it there written in her eyes, all in that one moment. And I could also see that she would never ever fall for me. She only fell for men who abused her, and I could never do that. An element was missing from me that she needed. I fell short. But I had already fallen so hard.

So where does this story end? I've only just begun, but the plot is already predictable. I make my move on her over ice cream a few days later, but she chooses the salesman instead. I convince her to be my friend, because I cannot bear to let her walk out of my life. When you meet the perfect one, you know. It does not mean you have the skill to win her.

Years pass, and I am older, wiser, bitter. She's passed me over for many boyfriends now, who come and go. She rushes into my arms for comfort afterwards, though we've never even kissed. I'm not even male to her anymore, I gave that up long ago. I have been with other women, but none have ever erased the pain she put there. It always burns there as new, whenever I look into her eyes.

Years pass, and perhaps I'm finally stronger as well. Perhaps it's time to brush my teeth and say goodbye.