It was never about love. Love was a fairy tale, the kind Disney sold at
exuberant prices, then turned into a ride that would once and awhile kill
someone.
Tyler and I, it was about being. I never really figured out whether I was Tyler.Or if Tyler was me. Maybe it was both. Perhaps, also, it was neither.
But Tyler, this time, he really is gone. Tyler went away, and he's never coming back.
But about love.I think the only people of us who felt that were the spacemonkeys that still seek to find the guru, Mr. Durden.And Marla.
Marla.Poor, confused Marla. She loved Tyler.the most she could, anyway. I think that we can never really feel love.But then again, it's never about love.
After Tyler, Marla and I dated and fucked. It was no big deal. Then I think she figured out that he was gone. She never said goodbye to me.But why should she have? Tyler never said goodbye to her, but I did kill him after all.
So Marla left too.Leaving me alone, for the first time since my insomnia kicked in.
Sure, I can sleep.I can almost forget what it was like to go days without sleeping. But the loneliness eats away at me. In the early hours, sometimes, when I'm working late at my shit job.I think about Tyler. I wonder what we would be doing.If we'd be out causing our little bouts of controlled chaos.
I miss him.I killed my best friend for a world who doesn't appreciate that I gave him up. Because, in the end, I did murder Tyler Durden. He was as human as I am. Hell, maybe more so. Tyler never put up with the bullshit life threw you.He crafted it into his own creation, his own view of perfection.
My scars are still visible. Especially the one that killed Tyler. The quarter size mark right through my cheek. I think of it as Tyler's last mark in life. His last moment as a living, if not breathing, person, dwells on my cheek.I really do miss him. He was a part of me that should have been treasured. Hell, the guy was just trying to save the world.
Damn.Maybe it is about love, in the end.
Tyler and I, it was about being. I never really figured out whether I was Tyler.Or if Tyler was me. Maybe it was both. Perhaps, also, it was neither.
But Tyler, this time, he really is gone. Tyler went away, and he's never coming back.
But about love.I think the only people of us who felt that were the spacemonkeys that still seek to find the guru, Mr. Durden.And Marla.
Marla.Poor, confused Marla. She loved Tyler.the most she could, anyway. I think that we can never really feel love.But then again, it's never about love.
After Tyler, Marla and I dated and fucked. It was no big deal. Then I think she figured out that he was gone. She never said goodbye to me.But why should she have? Tyler never said goodbye to her, but I did kill him after all.
So Marla left too.Leaving me alone, for the first time since my insomnia kicked in.
Sure, I can sleep.I can almost forget what it was like to go days without sleeping. But the loneliness eats away at me. In the early hours, sometimes, when I'm working late at my shit job.I think about Tyler. I wonder what we would be doing.If we'd be out causing our little bouts of controlled chaos.
I miss him.I killed my best friend for a world who doesn't appreciate that I gave him up. Because, in the end, I did murder Tyler Durden. He was as human as I am. Hell, maybe more so. Tyler never put up with the bullshit life threw you.He crafted it into his own creation, his own view of perfection.
My scars are still visible. Especially the one that killed Tyler. The quarter size mark right through my cheek. I think of it as Tyler's last mark in life. His last moment as a living, if not breathing, person, dwells on my cheek.I really do miss him. He was a part of me that should have been treasured. Hell, the guy was just trying to save the world.
Damn.Maybe it is about love, in the end.