Status: I'm not quite sure where this is going yet.
Villainy
Five.
The store that I work in doesn't have any kind of "no-tattoo" policy, so I don't get in trouble for my new ink, but everyone stares. They don't know anything about me, so this drastic change is strange to them. It doesn't bother me. I just do my job the same way that I've done every day for years.
I suppose I'm at the age now where I should be looking for a career, and not just working the same job, but I'm just not interested in that. I get a raise here every year, and I'm next up for a promotion, so it's not like money is really an issue. I don't know. That's just not really a change I want to go through. Not right now, at least.
I'm stocking shelves when someone clears their throat behind me. Annoyed, I turn around as slowly as possible, and I don't say anything when I finally see who it is.
"Please, talk to me. I miss you."
Wordlessly, I turn around and continue stocking the shelves. I'm still trying to tell myself that I don't miss him, so I stay silent to avoid my voice betraying me. Finally, without looking at him, I muster up the courage to ask, "Why?"
"I just do, okay?" He sounds exasperated, as if he expected me to be more cooperative than this. He must've forgotten how I was the whole time we were together.
I turn back around, feeling confident enough to face him. "No, not okay. There's a reason that you're here, and it's not because you miss me. She left you, didn't she?"
His face falls and it's answer enough for me. "Look, I don't exist so that you can clear your guilty conscience. Buy something or get out, okay?" Out of the corner of my eye, I see one or two of my curious co-workers at the corner of the aisle. He needs to leave right now. I'm not going to be the center of any drama or gossip. I absolutely refuse.
"Okay, okay," he says, putting his hands up in defense, "I'm going. But you know where to reach me when you decide you do want to talk. I really do miss you. I hope you can realize that."
Not once does he say that he's sorry for what he did, and that's what reveals his true intentions. He doesn't care about me. He doesn't really want anything to do with me. He just needs someone to make him feel wanted. Well, just like I told him, I'm not going to be that person. That's not the kind of person that I am.
Once upon a time, when I was still very naive, I would've run right back to him. I would've held him in my arms until he healed, and then he would've left again. But I understand that now. I understand that people are not inherently good, and that I shouldn't give them the benefit of the doubt. People don't deserve that chance, not unless their intentions are pure. And if I ever find someone with pure intentions, well, I'll be much more than surprised.
My co-workers have disappeared just like he did, so I'm hoping that it's the end of it. But when I get back up to the counter, I see them whispering to each other, and they stop the second they see me. I don't confront them because I know it would just fuel the drama, but I do roll my eyes and go find another aisle to stock.
God, I'm so sick of the people in this world.
I suppose I'm at the age now where I should be looking for a career, and not just working the same job, but I'm just not interested in that. I get a raise here every year, and I'm next up for a promotion, so it's not like money is really an issue. I don't know. That's just not really a change I want to go through. Not right now, at least.
I'm stocking shelves when someone clears their throat behind me. Annoyed, I turn around as slowly as possible, and I don't say anything when I finally see who it is.
"Please, talk to me. I miss you."
Wordlessly, I turn around and continue stocking the shelves. I'm still trying to tell myself that I don't miss him, so I stay silent to avoid my voice betraying me. Finally, without looking at him, I muster up the courage to ask, "Why?"
"I just do, okay?" He sounds exasperated, as if he expected me to be more cooperative than this. He must've forgotten how I was the whole time we were together.
I turn back around, feeling confident enough to face him. "No, not okay. There's a reason that you're here, and it's not because you miss me. She left you, didn't she?"
His face falls and it's answer enough for me. "Look, I don't exist so that you can clear your guilty conscience. Buy something or get out, okay?" Out of the corner of my eye, I see one or two of my curious co-workers at the corner of the aisle. He needs to leave right now. I'm not going to be the center of any drama or gossip. I absolutely refuse.
"Okay, okay," he says, putting his hands up in defense, "I'm going. But you know where to reach me when you decide you do want to talk. I really do miss you. I hope you can realize that."
Not once does he say that he's sorry for what he did, and that's what reveals his true intentions. He doesn't care about me. He doesn't really want anything to do with me. He just needs someone to make him feel wanted. Well, just like I told him, I'm not going to be that person. That's not the kind of person that I am.
Once upon a time, when I was still very naive, I would've run right back to him. I would've held him in my arms until he healed, and then he would've left again. But I understand that now. I understand that people are not inherently good, and that I shouldn't give them the benefit of the doubt. People don't deserve that chance, not unless their intentions are pure. And if I ever find someone with pure intentions, well, I'll be much more than surprised.
My co-workers have disappeared just like he did, so I'm hoping that it's the end of it. But when I get back up to the counter, I see them whispering to each other, and they stop the second they see me. I don't confront them because I know it would just fuel the drama, but I do roll my eyes and go find another aisle to stock.
God, I'm so sick of the people in this world.
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I'm really bad at updating this on any kind of schedule, sorry.