Pitch Black Gaze – Freewrite #44

Every time I gaze at a beautiful woman, I begin feeling completely numb. All I can think of are the times I failed the one and only girlfriend I’ve ever had in my life (and probably will be for a very, very long time), sulking over what could’ve been if I hadn’t been such an idiot. Not a single thought of how I can approach a gal I lock eyes with for a few moments like the one in front of me as I sit back in a library I’ve been trying to make my new home…

Caramel skin, gray sweater, black tights, stoic, probably working on a goal I’m sure she will accomplish, a headset for some tunes (one can only assume) and a smile she threw my direction as I hoped to have caught it. Oh, how I would’ve loved to briefly serenade her with a compliment and ask her out on a dinner date for one of these upcoming nights. But, no. Unfortunately, I’m stuck in my seat while I wonder why God even keeps me alive in the first place.

Seriously, why? I mean, I’m not doing anything but using my time to smoke and watch another show I most likely have no interest in. Sure, I’ve been trying to force myself to do something different, but each moment I find the strength to stand up, I crumble back into my bed praying I could just, fall asleep.

Because, if I was being completely honest, nowadays I force myself to live on and push forward regardless of the circumstance. I could be beaten, battered, bloodied as if The Bride from Kill Bill had a score to settle with me, but to quit? It’s…just not in my DNA. Never was, never will be!

And who knows why. All I know is, God planted seeds around my aching feet your aching feet for a reason. Plants, flowers, trees grow everywhere we walk through. I like to think my tears, your tears falling into the ground contributed to that growth. But, there’s no way that can happen since tears are too salty to water anything (if you could even produce enough in the first place). What happens is, we grow in return for every bit of pain we choose to endure no. Matter. What. Every jab to your jaw becomes a mere love tap. What knocked me down before would not be able to do the same today. Even if I don’t understand why I’m here today, I’m sure that reason will be found the day I decide to endure my bleeding wounds until they finally, finally close.

Maybe, that’s why I’m hesitant to utter a single compliment to the lovely lady sitting across from me. Never would I want to stain the beautiful picture she’s painted on her wonderful canvas. Why would I want to dirty that beauty with the darkness resting in my soul?…