Dumpster Grime

Once upon a time, the magic was gone.

He set his drink down on the counter and leaned over the sink. Saliva had built up from his sweet drink. He spat right down the middle of the drain. Bad day? Friends were being left. His socks slipped across the linoleum floor as he walked out, occasionally sticking to the soda stains. His head hung low and his broad shoulders seemed to provide too much room for the world. It wasn't that there was too much weight, it was a tipped scale. His shoulder slammed into the edge of his bedroom door. His hand instinctively grabbed his arm even before his brain realized there was pain. Bad day? He was tired of being run over and letting the girls go. There was the initial burst of energy. The kind of energy that left internet conversations running hours with minutes in between the pages. Why did he always reach for more? Why did he always keep pestering himself and pressuring himself? His abstract ideas screwed himself over in the end. Endless talks about nothing in particular doesn't provide relationship material. Should he give up? The energy stops abruptly. One day, one sentence, one word could make the relationship stutter. Bad day? His desk chair was rusty, the back ripped in two. The wheels were squeaky, the floor uneven. His head hung low as he sat down. She was there but was he? Did he finally scare her away? Did she get tired of his endless antics? Was there too much stepping or did his awkward smile appear one too many times? That doesn't exactly provide relationship material. Trying to convince himself otherwise, he pursued. Despite putting himself down, they picked him up. They told him how much she liked him too and how cool he acted. His words seemed to roll off of everyone's tongues. A slick mouth will get you anywhere. Shirt untucked, he slept on the keyboard in a wave of letters. His jacket was hung on the back of his door and the door cracked closed. The bed didn't let him sleep so well anymore. He always went back to her in his mind. She was so much prettier in person. Now was his chance, but should he let it slip? Was it really worth letting her go just because there was nothing. To be honest, she probably didn't see a future. Why put people through that horror. Too many tears have been shed over meaningless things. Spilled milk was no laughing matter but she always laughed at it. To be honest, he was ready for her.
Maybe today was that day when the brakes were set. Maybe when she left without saying goodbye. Maybe when she groaned at their ridiculous inside jokes. Bad day? He woke up to her calling him on the computer. Beeps showered his dream and he wanted to answer. Maybe nothing was wrong. Maybe it was his imagination. Either way he wasn't feeling too well and he wished she'd pick up on it. Meanwhile the names changed and the memories remained. Subtle changes challenged him now. After he struggled through the big choices and chances, the details shadowed through. Maybe he should say good night. What did she mean by I love you? Why did she say it like that? Does she love pizza or people? Either way he enjoyed those three words from her mouth. If he didn't act now, would he regret it or would it be the best choice? He sweated through his shirt and he peeled off his sticky socks. Maybe he strived for too much attention. Maybe he strived too hard to be the best. Maybe he acted badly. Bad day? Still, would he stick by her side through the morning and until the day began? It all depends on if it would matter. He would wait for her response. He had to admit, she was too good for him and he would be nothing better than the friend of a friend. It was a strange feeling not yet fitted into his pie chart of feelings. Maybe it was the charts. Maybe it was the logic. Maybe it was the transitions, Maybe it was the hollow feeling. There was too much space between them even at their closest. There was nothing like vacation days. There was nothing like hanging by his dumpster mind. Leaning on the slime and letting his socks get sticky. There was nothing like being someone to talk to.

What does he do now? Tell me.