Reggie hadn’t clipped his fingernails in a long while. It
had probably been almost two months since he last cut them and now they were
obnoxiously long. He was starting to consider the length of his fingernails and
an indicator as to the extent his heartbroken laziness had now extended. He was
just too sad to cut his own fingernails.
She’d left him three months ago after some silly fight about
the size of a certain actresses’ breasts and how he thought they were nice
breasts to which she got angry at him for not thinking about her breasts. Or at
least that was what Reggie thought the argument was about. He didn’t mean to
say that he thought that actress had nice breasts; he thought that he was
agreeing with her that they were indeed nice. Sadly, it was a trap that he
walked right into.
So after hours of arguing about every little thing, where he
put his shoes, why she couldn’t put her toothbrush in a certain spot in the
holder, why he always wanted to stay in on Friday nights, on and on for hours
until she finally said that she’d had enough of his unmotivated butt and she
left. She went to her friend’s house and then at some point during the
following week she came back, picked up her things, tossed her key on the
dining room table and walked out. Reggie hadn’t seen or heard from her since.
So he hadn’t moved much from the couch they had bought
together. He just sat or lay on it just watching TV and occasionally going to
the convenience store near-by to get excessive amounts of junk food and cigarettes.
At least he could work from home, so for a few hours at least he was able to
take his mind off the whole thing. But once he was done the fact that she was
really gone would creep back into his mind. He knew it was so typical. So
break-up boring, but he was compelled to sit and wonder why that actress with
the nice breasts ever even had to come on the TV. If that commercial had never
come on would his girlfriend still be with him? Would she still be pestering
him about when they were going to plan their summer vacation to South America ? Why did the universe seem to function in
this way? There didn’t seem to be anything random about it.
Reggie looked at his ever growing fingernails and remembered
that he’d heard once that the fingernails continue to grow even after a person
is dead. He certainly felt dead. He looked it too. When he did manage to
motivate himself to take a shower he’d look at himself in the mirror. He didn’t
see the youthful go getter that had initially swept Carolyn off her feet. He saw
the ragged body of a man beat down by the stresses of the world and the
emotional devastation of his strict upbringing.
He looked like the pale corpse of a man that had once lived but had
passed too soon.
He’d talk to himself about his state. He’d insist that he
wasn’t being lazy, but he was in mourning for the loss of his true love, the
death of his love; his true emotional passing into heartbroken oblivion. He’d
say these things to himself and wonder why of all the things he’d had to go
through in his life, this was the most painful.
Reggie reached up and scratched his nose.
“Ow”, he shouted.
His long finger nail had cut him. He touched his nose and
looked at his finger and saw the thin line of blood. He got off the couch and
went to the bathroom mirror and saw the slice on the right side of his nose. A
small cut, slowly oozing blood. Reggie looked at his reflection in the mirror
and sighed. He opened the medicine cabinet and looked for the nail clippers.
No comments:
Post a Comment