Scenarios.

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“She was laughing so beautifully and I couldn’t explain myself why I was feeling the need to stare at her. She was simple: long brown hair, classic linen clothes, a common woman. Her look seemed depressive and every time I made her laugh, I would be conquered by a feeling of success. Contemplating these words I realized that was the thing that made me fell for her; she fed my ego. Watching her laugh I became serious, I wished I could seduce her, rip her clothes off and still, at the same time, protect her. It was both a romantic and a brotherly need but even now, I can’t admit which one is more powerful. Sometimes I just feel the need of people adoring me and she wouldn’t do that; I know my words imply that I am an egocentric man, arrogant and indecisive, but that’s what makes you still hang on my lips. I know you’re still listening to my story so I shall continue.
I was disturbed of the others’ presence. I needed to admire her, in detail; being a predator is what characterizes me. I was surprised by the fact that she wouldn’t become my victim. That made me want her badly, in every possible way that you may think.”
I studied his movements carefully. He’s always betraying his intentions. I would ask for more details but our intimacy – if it ever existed – wouldn’t permit me so I continued my study. His eyes flickered at every word she would say as if he was expecting a desirable answer to his thoughts. My coffee got cold. He made me feel uncomfortable. I needed something else to get my mind off the scenario that I had already created in my mind. I bet someone else at that table would have agreed with me.
After a while, my emotions were in a conflict of interests as the doors of the railway closed disturbingly quickly. Leaving the warmth of a coffee shop, I found myself surrounded by lovers of the night. October had grown old, this autumn was colder, the streets had emptied and I was still feeling dizzy. I think that the beggar outside the church saw me half smiling and tearful. Perhaps he thought that I had gone mad.
“I left the coffee shop alone. The railway station wasn’t as empty as I expected. I got amused by the publicity of a telecommunications company on the walls. The girl in the photo reminded me of an actress. When I got out, finally breathing fresh air, I felt relief and happiness. I was expecting winter so badly. The pub near my house was half-empty. The barman’s face was filled with boredom and the music was off. I ran up the stairs and reached to my room. I opened the door carefully so I wouldn’t wake up anyone. My act wasn’t successful. I said a quick “hello” and ran into the bathroom. I needed a cool shower. As the water was running on my skin I was thinking of her pleasing me. A knock on the door though, interrupted my imagination. I had to satisfy someone else’s needs. I gave in and an hour later I fell asleep. I dreamed of nothing or at least, I didn’t remember anything. Whatever it was, it must have been of no importance.”

Infatuation.

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     The way he blinked was obsessing her. In a few hours he lost his boyishness. She was staring at him, waiting for the right words to come out of his mouth. His glance was empty and his soul had grown. He was saying nonsensical words, hoping that he would confuse her.
That morning the sky was clear. Even the navy clouds were afraid to confront his temper. Her bed was warm, the creases of her blanket tightened her body and she wouldn’t leave that bed if the alarm clock wasn’t so persistent. Hours later she found herself insulted by his manners. Clouded by that feeling of disavowal, she was still studying his movements with the edge of her eye. She used to do that quite often as it was such a pleasure to observe a man’s wildness fighting the child inside him. “Men must believe us stupid when thinking that we don’t know!”, she quoted. She was repeating the same preposition to herself. That was the truth that she didn’t want to live by.
She was a bit charmed and half excited. He was unpredictable and that was the thing that agonized her.Even if he became what she couldn’t stand to encounter, a part of her was thrilled to read another chapter of him.

Part 18: The Actor Of Your Life

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         You know they say tough people are the most sensible and emotional. I’m now convinced that’s true. Many of us, myself included, show others a harsh face, heartless. They show no weakness, no pity. That’s like an armour which protects us from abusers and queen-bees. However, those people, deep inside are those who suffer the most. Life has shown them mistakes are to be made and they haven’t lost a chance but to make them. Experience if what they get; good or bad. The sad thing is all these “cases” – including myself – are either hated or loved. Mostly hated because of the character they show but if you get to know them better you’ll observe they just chose another way to live. They chose not to let pain get above their happiness. They chose jokes above nerves. They chose laugh above tears.
          But…there is a “but”. When the time comes they erupt  They feel their body in pain, their mind lost, their heart broken but their face should always show the same soul less expression. Their eyes get filled with tears they hardly hide. If you can understand them you’ll notice. Revenge is something they desire mostly. Some of them on the people who hurt them and others on their own selves. Time is just meaningless when you hide every emotion and feeling. The mind gets dirty and their smile has always two meanings. Those people seem mysterious but in reality they are like an open book. It’s a conceptional thing. You’ve got to watch every move of theirs. You’ll see everything is planned and if it doesn’t it just makes sense.
           Every day, those people wake up thinking of their role. Life is just a stage in which they have to perform better and better every single time in order to success.