Skip to main content

Heartbreak

The little boy did not want to be her friend anymore. That was the thing! He just did not want to play with her. She told her mom. Moms are the only ones who understand those things. "Did he tell you he doesn't want to be your friend?", she asked. "Yes." A big fat tear formed and was dripping from the corner of her eye. "He doesn't want to play with me anymore." The mom caressed her hair. Why doesn't he like me mom?" Tears continued falling, one fat one after the other. It impressed the mom how tears could be so heavy and fat. She was silent. "Well, if he doesn't want to play with you, there is nothing you can do, sweetie!" 

The little girl raised her head and her big brown eyes starred at her mom. She could see the despair in them. "Despair... How could that be? So young!" Yet, there it was! She recognized it. 
- You can play with your other friends! You have so many friends! You have so many people who love you! 
- But why doesn't he want to play with me, mom? Why? 
She sobbed a little and the mom was quiet again. "Why? Isn't that always the question? Will there ever be an answer to this question?" But she was the mom, she had to say something. 
- You know, if you play with your other friends, if you just forget about him for a while, I'm sure with time he will realize what a good friend you are and he will certainly want to play with you again!
- You think so?
-  I do! I think so!

The mom dried up the girl's tears and held her in her arms for a while. "Little kids can be cruel.", she thought to herself while she tucked her little girl in bed and kissed her good night: "It will be alright, sweetie!" And she reflected upon her adult life, the choices she had to make, the things she did not get to choose, the lovers that walked away, the losses she had to endure, stuff she could only accept and understand as a part of life. She looked at the little girl who had fallen asleep and hoped this was not going to be her first heartbreak. A fat tear clouded her sight and fell through the corner of her eye.

Labels

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Once

I once dated a werewolf            Eyes like flashlights           showing the path I once walked the path I found lost words I found lost pain I once threw my car from a bridge In the highest speed When street lights seemed like flying arrows and the water from the lake was a dark brick wall I once threw stones at the windows of the moon and sailed a boat of stardust in a lightless night I crossed the borders in disguise and spoke a million tongues I now decided to forget I once danced with a king on top of the highest tower No one ever saw the king No one, but me I once was a speck of dust I once was a grain of sand I was part of a hurricane And I landed on another land I once dreamt new dreams and wrote them on napkins I once wrote poems on spaceships and lies on  pages of ancient books no one ever read I once took a look I once took a pick I once took a bite It did not do the trick  ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Chinese man

  She got up and went to get a cup of coffee. “Damned headache!” Acute and deep, precise, the day ruined. -        -   As if a long, fine, pointy needle forced itself through my cranium, you know? A Chinese man with long mustache holding one point of the needle, manipulating it, pushing it very slowly. -        -   Why Chinese? Seriously, she could not believe it! A headache from Hell, dripping sweat after the coffee and that was the question? -        -   Why not? Is there a law against the Chinese? -       I was just asking! -        -   It’s my pain, isn’t it? If it’s Chinese, Japanese, Arabic, what is the difference? -        -   Forget it!    She regretted the rude reply, but did not apologize! Apologizing would require time, explanations, facing the Chinese man, pulling him by the mustache, immobilizin...
2 comments
Read more

When a murderer lives inside your head

Schopenhauer says to live is to climb a mountain and when you see what is waiting for you on the other side of the mountain too early in life, you can never climb it the same way. I saw what was on the other side and decided I was simply not climbing that mountain anymore, unless pushed the way up. You wouldn’t realize that just by looking at me then. You wouldn’t see that I had quit. I would wake up, take showers, eat (actually there would be a lot of eating), go to work, do whatever obligation I was supposed to. I would even go out with friends or family. But if you looked really closer, you would realize I was only automatically responding to demands, except for the food. Food became my only source of pleasure. How was all the rest performed? At work, if there were tasks and deadlines, I’d do them, using no more than the basic skills required.   As to my social life, it rested on the plans of others. They would say when and where to go. They would pick me up and bring me ho...
4 comments
Read more