I was never anything to anyone.
That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, of course. I had done it, to myself. Pushed away the people I loved, I shoved them away like they were nothing and I was everything and that I had the power to do whatever it was that I wanted. I lived in a house full of people, but no one really acknowledged or saw. My friends were few and as fleeting as the thin piece of cardboard I was watching tumble down the street as I walked. It was easier to push them away, than to watch them die.
It was a predetermined mindset of mine, capsulated in my head like a slow-acting medication. All people would die, eventually. It's better not to get so agonizingly attached. One day, they're just going to flitter away, and you're going to be left with all of these feelings, these painful feelings…
I didn't like pain, not one bit, not like the pain in my feet from walking so much, or the pain from scratching myself a little too hard. I could deal with physical pain. If we're talking emotional, well, that's quite something else indeed.
It's not that I dislike people. I love people. People are interesting creatures, with all of their hidden faces and motives. We're all so different. I liked talking to people, and knowing people. But it couldn't go beyond a fleeting conversation or maybe a few casual meetings. Then the other party would get attached, and well, that was against my moral resolve.
Life, people, everything is completely transient. We all come and go without a trace eventually, unless you were someone of note, like a famous basketball player or a commander in a war or a crazy inventor. Or, perhaps, a God.
God. The concept was reassuring. Someone was out there, listening to all of us in our hardest times. Yeah, I could see the comfort in that. I've always wanted someone to listen to me, but I wasn't going to break my self-discipline. So, when I'm in trouble, I believe there's a God; but when things are complacent, well, who cares anyway?
I felt around in my pockets for my cigarettes, and whipped them out, deciding that the temptation was too great. I pulled my lighter out of my other pocket and lit the cig, the smell relieving any tension in my body. I knew it wasn't good for me, but I assumed that being so against friendly commitment was as well.
I took in a little, and heaved a sigh out, the smoke flittering away from my face and into the atmosphere. The sky was lovely tonight. Completely clear. Even in the city, I could make out one or two stars. I smiled to myself and walked on down the street. Yeah, all I needed were cigs, the sky, and fleeting friends. Friends like smoke, who were there when I needed them, and gone when the wind blew.
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I like this character. She's terrible to write about. Awesome challenge.
Please let me know where you want this to go. I'm kind of lost myself. Quelle surprise.
