Ryan and Delmore out on a date, part 5

Disclaimer: This text contains languange that some of our readers may view as offensive.

He wrapped his arms around her, kissed her head and tried to calm her down but she squirmed out of his clasp and cried:

– NO! Stay away from me, please!

– Wh.. What? Wh… Why would you say that? Replied Ryan confused. What have I done? Just tell me and I’ll fix it. I swear.

– It’s not you. It’s me. I have a boyfriend, okay? I wasn’t planning on any of what happened between us to happen. Aaron and I have been going through a rough patch lately and I really needed a break and that’s where you came in. You felt… Safe. But today, everything was so perfect. You made me forget about him. And I let my guard down and let things just happen. I know I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry but I can’t do this. I love him.

And in a blink of an eye, with her last confession, his whole world fell apart. He felt the ground crumbling from below him. A free fall from happiness to « f*cking shoot me dead right between the eyes I no longer have the will to live ». He stood there frozen from top to bottom. The only proof of life were his tear-shedding eyes.

Dear readers, if I had to describe his current state, it would take me days, and not enough words in the English language are strong enough to do it justice. It won’t do it justice if I tell you how hurt, humiliated, fooled, used, broken, stupid, sorrowful and devastated he felt. It wouldn’t do it justice if I told you that his tears couldn’t dry off and were dribbling down like raindrops. It won’t do it justice if I told you how hard he tried to compose himself and say something back or make a joke out of the situation to soften the blow like he always does. But what joke would he make? At least we both had orgasms. That counts as a win-win scenario, right? or You must’ve been very desperate to go out with me then. He couldn’t bring himself up to utter a single word. He gulped and sniveled and that was it. The whole scene looked heartbreaking.

Delmore was feeling guilty for the horrible crime she committed but there was little she could do while facing an impossible choice: The one she claims to be in love with and the one she had a one-night mistake with. So, she showed herself out and before she disappeared from Ryan’s view, she whispered a faint « I’m sorry » and with it, she was gone…

Ryan closed the door slowly and dropped to the floor, his back against the door. He brought his knees to his chest and covered his face with both his hands and sobbed shaking his head in disbelief.

Then he got himself up, filled with rage, he punched the wall. ‘F*ck’ and punched ‘F*ck’. And punched and punched and punched and punched and punched… F*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, F*******************CK… His hands bled and his knuckles bruised. He headed for the stereo set and grabbed the Demi Lovato CD and threw it out of the window as hard as he could. He slammed the controller he had given her earlier and broke it to pieces. It was an ugly sight to see…

We could all agree that his reaction was a reasonable one, violent as it might’ve been. At least he didn’t suppress his anger to lash out on an unlucky unexpected guest that night -You’d be relieved that no one knocked on his door and that he had no encounter with any other human beings that night- and he wasn’t too extreme that he’d do something as stupid as commit suicide or go completely nuts and track her down and murder her with her boyfriend. But we could also relate to his torment. We’ve all been in his shoes unless you’re a heartless bastard or a robot. We’ve all been deceived by someone we admired. We’ve all been heartbroken at least once in our lives. I’ve never actually broken anything but I’ve always wanted to kick the shit out of someone during such situations. I’d play scenarios in my head, like someone getting on my nerves and I’d just grab him by the back of his neck and bash his nose with my knee and then put him down with a left hook, or roundhouse kick him on his thigh to bring him down to his knees and then knee him in the face to finish him off by getting on top of him and pummel his face with hateful angry punches. But I’ve never done that. And probably never will, as appealing as it may sound when I’m in that state. I’m not sure how you cope with such unpleasantries, but I hope you’re not hurting anyone in the process, including yourself.

He finally brought himself to calm down a little bit. He headed back to his bed, fetched his journal and set it down on his office table, grabbed the feather and began scribbling down:

It hurts… It really hurts… Thinking about her hurts… Her words are still echoing in my head, inducing a chaotic mayhem in all my sensor synapses, wrecking my fragile psyche, unwillingly puppeteering the chemical reactions ensuing inside of me. All the romantic movies I’ve seen, all the amorous books I’ve read, all the syrupy moves and gestures I’ve pulled and my endeavors still were unrewarded… Where’s the silver lining in this? Damned with a curse I shall not break free from, destined to abide a nightmarish existence for what’s left of my being. What insolence or outrage could I have perpetrated to be doggoned with God’s wrath?

Now I’ve occupied this pale disguise, a vessel of what once was a lively cheerful man, a valiant combatant in this game of life where he stood up to it with optimism, hope and a unique sense of humor which added likability to his character. I’ve become… No, I’ve always been this abomination set on the course of obliterating and desiccating every source of hilarity I come across.

Defeated may it sound, I’m undeserving after all…

What triggered it? Oh, let me guess… It’s a « she », right? Pathetic. Oh BOO HOO a girl broke your heart. Oh, wait… Oh my god, did you hear that? Did you see that? The roof is falling apart, the sky’s turning black, the soil’s cracking open to swallow you alive. IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD… MAN.THE.F*CK.UP. Go bench press, write a book, jog until your legs can no longer hold you upright, jerk off, play a video game, do something productive, I don’t care. Just MOVE.ON. F*cking crybaby going all emo on me. People are starving, dying, can’t find a shelter or proper water to drink on you’re here weeping like a little dumb bitch.

Why should I care about these people? To each his own predicaments and torments… Mine happens to be my curse to never find a suitable partner to spend the rest of my life with. I’m alone. I’m alone god damn it. Have you got any f*cking idea how does it feel to be the only pathetic male in your friends’ circle to always try and to always fail in the sole quest of having or even maintaining a functioning relationship? And just when you believe you’ve found your perfect match… Perfect match my *ss… Just when you think you’ve found her, all flattery and flirty, all beautiful and breath-taking, all interesting and smart, a unique thousands-of-years rare gemstone with a captivating personality and intriguing perspective on life. The same kind of damaged and broken you are to which you can relate to and whom you can perfectly understand. I was blindly drawn to her as she, utterly and literally was like no other female I’ve had the pleasure of talking to. She’s…

Shut up. SHUT.THE.F*CK.UP. How could you possibly still praise her, talking about her beauty and intelligence and yipita yapita ta while she was the reason for making you this f*cking pathetic, miserable, whiny brat? You’re f*cking trembling from head to toe for f*ck’s sake. You can’t even stand up straight without the fear of fainting at any point. Your heart feels like it’s about to explode and you f*cking know too damn well that you’re feeling like you’d have a panic attack at any giving moment right now. You can’t even breath steadily. Look at yourself, you helpless moron. Tears running down like a f*cking waterfall. JESUS.F*CKING.CHRIST! Consider me heartless but I’m f*cking grateful that you’re on the path to becoming an inconsiderate, indifferent bastard. That way, they’ll get hurt. You won’t. You don’t deserve to get hurt. And don’t you dare say that you deserve it or want it. Who wants to suffer for the rest of his life? You can’t play tough guy while your tears haven’t even dried up yet. It’s time for you to adopt another strategy if you loathe the thought of growing old as an old lonely fart who at some point won’t be able to use the restroom on his own or cook for himself. Be a jerk. A f*ckboy. A ladies man. An arrogant confident sexy *ssh*le. I mean she played you and used you while she’s already in a relationship with a guy that most likely to have many of these qualities. Most of them choose poorly. So be the poor choice of some dumb-*ss girl that she sees you as someone that you’re, in fact, not. Sell an image. It works in marketing, it should work on everybody.

It’s either that, or loneliness…

He took a deep breath. Closed his journal. Gazed at it. Then grabbed it. climbed down the latter slowly still staring at his diary. Came to a standstill in front of the window. Took a good final look at it again. And then threw it out…