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Journey into darkness

By Jason Martin All Rights Reserved ©

Horror

Nice guys finish last

Start writing here ...

“nice guys finish last”, That’s what I always told myself whenever my heart was broken. It was inevitable each time. I use to think “I’m far too happy for this to ever work”. Then I would wonder how it would end. Would it be growing apart? Or some issue where she didn’t quite get what she wanted? Would she cheat on me? That hasn’t happened yet, thank god. I’m not quite sure what I would do in that situation. I’m a big enough guy that I could hurt someone, but would I? That must be why “nice guys finish last” they always tend to over think or simply put others before themselves. In many ways you could regard that as an attribute rather than a flaw. After a while I just began to think maybe I was the problem after all. That happiness just wasn’t something that I could have. I guess that’s fine, I’m not one to go shoot up a school or run people down in a parking lot because life isn’t fair to me. You just have to play the hand you’re dealt, even if it is one as crappy as mine. Where do all these stupid saying come from anyway? Is there just some random jerk that used it as a catch phrase to make up for his awful existence like mine? Perhaps it was just created by the happier people to cheer guys like me up. I suppose I’ll never really know, I’m too lazy to look it up anyway.

When I met Sarah, I had already admitted defeat in the dating realm. There were far better looking guys than me out there, and I couldn’t get out of my own thoughts to talk to anyone. That’s the trouble with having a good memory, it doesn’t necessarily make you smart it just makes you remember every awkward and embarrassing event. You attempt to prevent them from ever reoccurring and sometimes you are successful but then a new one pops up. A fresh new memory to make you cringe in the shower when you mull over just how crappy things have gotten, and the fact that you aren’t getting any younger. In eight more years I’ll be forty, who the heck wants to date a forty year old weirdo like me? I got side tracked. So Sarah was the biggest breath of fresh air. I met her while she was taking care of her drunk friend. She was probably feeling low and someone like me just happened to be in the right place at the right time. We instantly liked each other, and it was almost magical.

Sarah was an accountant at this large banking corporation in town. I’m a manager with the auto parts store in town. We were an odd couple but it was awesome. Still, that feeling never left me no matter how happy I was; “I’m not allowed to be happy”. As the months went by I found myself questioning whether or not it would work out, or if it would just fall apart again. Everywhere I look there are nothing but happy faces. Why can’t I be happy? Why does this have to end? Half a year went by and we were still together. I brought her flowers at work, cooked for her, and made love to her always trying to be the best, always trying to give her a reason to stay. Then I noticed it, that comfortable look in her face. That look of boredom that so many girls get after they get what they want. In six months I had used up all of my best moves, I had expressed all of my emotions, I had poured everything into her and I could tell she wanted more.

Things began lookin real bad once her bitchy friends had their privileged opinions of me known. It must be nice growing up not wanting for anything, mommy and daddy can just come along and give it to you so you’ll shut up and leave them to their drugs or TV shows or whatever they can do to distract themselves from their miserable self-indulgent existences. This one guy, Steven, had the balls to say I had anger issues. I showed him just how calm I could be when slipped up behind him in his garage. He probably never knew what happened. Even as he thrashed and kicked at me as I choked him out. He put up a struggle but I’m a big son-of-bitch, stronger than the average dope that doesn’t even lift a weight. I stuck him in his car turned the motor on rolled down the windows closed the garage, then sleep tight Steven. No more filling my girl’s head with your trash.

In month seven Sarah became depressed. I couldn’t figure out why. I tried everything, I massaged her feet, held her close at night even sent her flowers at work. Nothing seemed to lift her spirits. I guess she was really getting tired of me. What do I do that is so bad to these girls? Am I really so boring and awful? She told me she loved me, but does that mean she loves me? Or she just saying that? I sometimes watch her while she sleeps. I can’t help it, I sit up in bed and look down at her wondering what she could be thinking about me. Is she planning to leave too? Why did I invest this much emotion into one person? Maybe I should just leave her first, then I can walk away saying it wasn’t me it was her. Even though she is all I want. Why can’t I be happy?

I pretend every day that it’s normal. That every little thing is just fine and I don’t feel this way. I have to be strong I’m a man, and if a man shows weakness the woman will no longer love him for his strength but pity his weakness. I say mean things to her and assert myself so that she knows that I’m still a man. If it ever slipped out how desperately lonely I am she would laugh at me. Perhaps I should do something to prove just how strong I am.

We only fight now. She will barely come to see me and when she does we have trouble finding words to speak. I knew this would eventually happen, it always does. Nice guys finish last. She tells me that I’m not the same person I was when we met. That she wants to help me, and that it’s ok to tell her how I feel. These are all tests to get me to become the sissy she thinks I am. I yelled at her, became enraged. I expelled hateful phrases at her in response to her lies of compassion. No woman cares what a man feels, they only care about what they can obtain from that person. Women are like cats, they don’t really love you they only tolerate you because you give them things. Why I was so drawn to such a creature I don’t know.

I’m all alone again, sitting here in this same corner looking out the same window. She was everything to me for a while, and then she was nothing. In time my mind erased her and she became just another chapter in this endless book of nonsense. Isn’t it funny how that happens? You think back at all the people in your life the time you spent around them. It’s like those events happened to someone else and you were watching from afar. Like everything is just fading around you. I’m just going to sit here for a while until I can journey back out. Maybe I’ll meet someone new. Maybe Sarah and I will have a second chance. Maybe I’ll be able to finally scratch this itch on the back of my head. Perhaps if I run headfirst into the door hard enough I’ll finally shine some light into this dark and hideous existence of mine. But I can’t, because the walls are soft, and all I have is time to count the days until I’m finally with Sarah again, because nice guys finish last. 

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