A Puddle in the Sahara
On the importance you don't know you need until someone hands it to you
Come! Take refuge at my table! One should never cast the shadow of a stranger in the presence of such an individual like myself!
I have many a story to tell, and you should feel so lucky to even hear my voice call to you!
Do not look at me like that.
A man is his ego, and I’ll be damned if-
My apologies.
Come, please, sit with me, I wish to tell you about myself.
I was never a “good man” in the sense you might have become accustomed to.
Often I could be found wandering, aimlessly, without right or reason, and I revelled in my own scarcity.
One might wonder how such a man could possibly entertain the affections of another, and it is here where I will stop you, as he cannot.
I found this out in my younger years: rejection was followed by vile hatred for the mirror, and then unequivocal serenity for the realisation that I was something they could not possess.
One may be right to call it egotistical, but one may also wish to understand the self-preservation it can breed.
All of this played out in much a similar manner for years upon years, until, quite remarkably, some poor fool stuck around.
I use the word “fool” as that is exactly what you must be to believe that change in another is yours to bring.
What she saw was a scoundrel who could both love and despise himself at the drop of a hat.
And how that hat was often flung across rooms!
Don’t dare pass a questionable look in my direction, for I might just turn into God before you!
Or should I sooner ball and quiver at your attempt to pay me any form of attention?
Ha! No, she would soon understand, and as any ill-equipped saint must do, she would eventually pack up her things and call time on this endeavour.
I should interject here and say that at the very moment it happened, I wished her nothing but the best, quickly returned back to me.
My eyes were wide!
I had shown to yet another that I was not to be a trophy, but a trophy I was!
A trophy I am!
No, I should be honest and say that this moment passed rather quickly, and I would see the error of my ways
You see, my dear companion, I had not yet felt such a love from another until her arrival.
And my nights would soon be filled with questions of “why?”
Why would such a person see me fit?
Perhaps she too was hellbent on changing someone other than herself?
Or perhaps she saw something that I was yet to?
There can be no denying that I was far from perfect, and yet perfect stayed.
The years that followed would drive me mad.
Mad!
I became a quiet lunatic!
Quick to keep quiet, and quick to turn my thoughts a blaze!
Who might she lay with now?
Perhaps he is better than me?
Perhaps he-
I’m being too graphic for our first meeting, excuse me!
But you understand?
I had become obsessed, not just with the image of her, but of the image I had constructed of myself if I still had her.
One must note a difference.
It is here that I must touch on “importance”
I am not a man who feels much of it, and nor am I a man who wishes to give it out.
But you will surely know its pull?
To feel that importance, even when one does not hold themselves in the highest of regards, is but a puddle in the Sahara: I had learned to live without it, but could not have been quicker to lap it up like a dog!
And how I loved it!
Oh, how it was all mine!
How I could hold my head above anyone!
There is less to be said about how it was given and what I done with it, but the matter should progress.
I was addicted.
And my addiction would go unsatiated after her.
I would chase it in the back alleys of places I would not go in a sober mind!
And would feel it pressed against me, if for only a moment, with the least desirable beggars.
Begging for exactly what I wanted.
But in my head, we were different.
One cannot explain why, and maybe that’s because any why is not to be found.
But oh, how it hungered for more.
But somewhere, anywhere, she’s there.
Every corner.
Every trip and fall.
She watches.
I know it.
I just know it.
How could anyone forget such a man?
You never miss, do you? STUNNING
Mmh much to ponder