I Take You
Every single hair on his head. Every single hair on his body. His teeth. His tongue. His nails. The mole on his ball and the hair on the mole. Everything everywhere hurts like Hell. The damn mean gulls. He can hardly breathe. He can hardly talk. He thinks he's still in shock.
What have I done? What have I done? He keeps asking himself. All the women in his life. All the promises no one bothered to keep. All his shattered and cast away dreams. His engulfing loneliness. He can find the answers. He can't find the reasons. He feels broken. He feels lost.
He looks at his ring. It shines brightly under the light. It fits his finger perfectly. He just wants to find a good woman. A true and genuine one. One that knows how to cook. One that knows how to bake. One that knows how to smile. One that knows how to laugh. One that loves to clean. One that doesn't mind doing a little ironing. One that loves to do the laundry. One that will always be there when he comes home after a long day's tedious work. One that will always loves him. Is that too much to ask?
He turns on the TV. The Yankees lost. Robie Cano sucks. A Baltimore street collapsed. The Southern California wildfire is still not totally contained. The tornadoes. And the floods. The world he grew up in is falling apart. He has, somehow, let happiness slip through his hands. Was it his fault? Is he the one to blame? It's just another Friday. It's just another day in May. Spring has finally arrived. Yet everything feels so cold. The bald spot on top of his head is still a bit swollen. The seagull parents showed him no mercy. His mother went to the church to light a candle for him. He's not going to go near that beach again. One hundred years of solitude. Ten millions years of loneliness. He feels like a caged animal.
And all the visitors in the zoo are laughing at him.