A nice Company ficlet, just of Robert's innermost rambles.
A very, very short drabble, something I really need right now.
Sondheim owns the lovely Company, while I don't.
I own. A guinea pig named Squeakers, though.
Thirty-five.
That was a lot of numbers for one man.
A lot of numbers for a man who hasn't found out what he really wants, who hasn't found the one thing to keep him grounded and sane.
I really needed a woman-- not a string of one-night stands, nor someone picked by my friends. I mean, I didn't want to have my friends dictating where I went in life anymore. I'm old enough to figure it out for myself; I don't need to have my hand held by anyone anymore.
"Blow out the candles.."
I looked up at Amy with malice written over my face; I was just getting the hang of thinking for myself, and there she went. Telling me what to do, telling me to blow out the candles and want something.
The trouble is, I'm not sure I know what I want, except someone to have and hold..someone whom moves in tandem with me, rather than dragging me along.
"Somebody hold me too close.."
I breathed out, staring up into the faces of my friends. The crazy couples.
If I'm lucky, maybe I'll end up like them.
Read and review my mindless drabble.
It calls to you.