The frustration and anger was building inside him. I could see it by his facial expressions and actions, yet he was holding back and not retaliating. Not yet, anyways. He was biding his time, determined to exact his revenge, and he was not the only one, there were more. Still, I continued to antagonize them with childish insults and ridiculous behavior, knowing deep down that I was digging my own grave. Still, deep down, the anger and sadness drove me on, looking for a victim, looking for an outlet.
I didn’t know him, but didn’t like the way he looked. So I treated him like garbage, and instead of walking away, I continued my idiotic behavior, making them angrier and angrier with my insults and laughter.
And inside me the fear continued to build, the knowledge that I was getting myself into a situation that I wouldn’t be able to handle. But what the hell does it matter? I deserve to push back, docile passive aggressive ***** that I am, door-mat to the world that I am. I wanted to be the a**hole, the one pushing their buttons. I deserve my turn at the top, giving orders and making demands, having things go MY way, everyone else be damned.
Still, I’d have to answer to these very angry people, and soon.
That’s when I woke from the dream, an hour before my alarm would sound.
I’m a coward. I fear the world, I fear it’s inhabitants, their thoughts and their actions, their criticisms and opinions, their questions and their remarks. I fear much. I live a passive existence of taking what is given to me and pretending it’s all just fine.
Whatever.
Just a bad dream I had, one that startled me awake.
I will never stop missing you, buddy. Your loss has changed me. It has changed me, and in these three months, I have grown . . . angry. I rage at things that I once laughed off. I am becoming despondent, some would say. I am searching for another “you”, and maybe I shouldn’t be. You have become another voice in my repertoire of imaginary characters, now existing alongside Creature, Entity, Schrindleman, Miss Gwendolyn, Neck, Darnell and Chang, Viktor and Raja. Now there’s you, and we converse throughout the day, in an effort to quell this god forsaken loneliness. Imaginary friends. These are what I have to share my time with, and now you are one.
The dream that was you is over, and what’s left is all around – a bland, ugly world in which all I am doing is breathing, existing, and wondering what to do now.
I love you baby boy. I always will, that will NEVER change. I miss you with everything that I am. You were, and always will be, my heart and my soul, my life and my love, my world. I hope to see you again, Hooks.
4 comments
I don’t know what you’re going through. I can only speak through my experience and anger hurts. I hope you find a healthy release from the anger you feel.
When Peño died, the only thing that gave me comfort was the fact that Peño could no longer feel pain.
Hey there, so I just restored this post after reading your newest post, I don’t know if you’re talking to me or not.
I deleted this post earlier today because I kind of wish I hadn’t even put it up. I was pretty shaken after the dream I had. I didn’t check for comments before trashing it, so sorry.
Anyways, thanks for this, and things will work out one way or the other, they always do. I think you mentioned losing a dog, Peno? As in Jalapeno?
Sorry about hooks.
You have nothing to apologize for. Peño indeed was short for Jalapeño.