I wore the woolen cloth like a cape. Snagged it straight from the grill it was used to cover, I felt like a superhero. Or was it, a super villain? It didn’t matter. I was skittering down the road, just around 4AM, everything was cowering before me. It was perfect.
The glare of the orange streetlights, the flicker of faraway stars. It could have been great to watch earlier. But I’m just sober now. Fallen half-asleep too. So boring. Maybe if I just walk a little further. Perhaps make my way to some place. Explore the neighborhood a bit-
“They’ve all left you. Now, no one else will love you. But us.”
This was punishment. This was me mouthing the lines. Funny how something so serious could be fuel for a moment’s jest. I pretend to laugh a bit. I realize I don’t drink enough.
“You’ll realize one day. What we’ve been telling you. We’ve been right all along.”
I wonder what kind of superhero (or super villain) I’d be like the most. Like Superman in the movies. Alien. Dies in the end of that last one. Maybe not, not so fun. Too bad the cape really looks great on me though. It isn’t red. But I can save the world.
“Look at where you are right now. Look at where you got yourself.”
Maybe- more like a sympathetic villain. The prime target of adversity. Complete with good intentions, some leverage, an impending tragedy. Sounds just about right. I’m going to have to think this through.
I look around and there was no one there. Just a set of houses. All the landmarks, still there. All the cars, still there. Everyone’s still fast asleep. No one there to watch me pass by, sit on their curb, repeat to myself all these stupid, discouraging stories lodged deep inside my head.
There’s nothing left to think about now other than this. Every memory, scrambling back and forth, helpfully reminding me that there’s no use. They won’t let me in now. Just as they had countless times in different other ways, just to prove a point. But I don’t care. I am tired. And it’s just a matter of time before they let me back in.
‘Just a matter of time.’ Jesus. What am I saying? I was built to fight. To take a stand. And to win somehow because that’s how it’s supposed to be. To win. To fight. Like a superhero, someone wearing a cloak out in the cold, dressed in clothes fit for a gala, vanquishing all these demons.
“One day you’ll be out there-
One day I’ll be out there. One day I’ll be out there and it will be just as it is right now, I’ll be alone but hardened, sharp but never cracking under the pressure. Charged up by all the friction with the world, into a creature of burning resolve. This is my nature. The thing of which I’ve become made of.
There’ll be no need to care for me.