Page 15 of Clean Hack
The days passed. Another birthday came and went. I was older but didn’t really feel any different. I celebrated with a frozen lasagna for one and a double chocolate cake. I wished for the same thing I’d wished for the last few years right before I blew out the candles. I ate a piece for me and one for Allison. After that, I went to bed sad but didn’t allow myself to cry.
I waited and wished for that moment I’d be able to call Clean. It was pathetic and I knew it. There were moments that I wondered what might happen if I just called him. If I could get the courage to talk to him. But it seemed too strange and so I let those moments pass. Even if I did call him I had a knowing feeling that I wouldn’t be able to actually speak. At least when I called him for work purposes, I knew what I was going to say. All I had to do was spit out an address. A location. I didn’t have to linger after that and therefore I didn’t have to think of what to say next. I didn’t have to look like an idiot.
Then my mind drifted to what he was doing. Did he have hobbies that he did in his downtime? Was he a social person or more cut off like me? Did he have a girlfriend? Or hell, a boyfriend? Maybe both. Oh, now that was a thought. I could see how he would be able to handle two people at once. Though, his work wasn’t really conducive for having a relationship. He seemed like a man that took his job seriously. Like it would always come first. He never hesitated when I called him like he wasn’t ready to take off right then. I felt like his job was his life. For some reason, that made me sad, thinking that he didn’t have anyone at home or whatever to take care of him.
Which was insane.
Because I shouldn’t have been feeling anything for the man.
Okay, yeah, he was almost there in my life but not really. He was kind of like an unexpected constant. Though the constant part was pretty sporadic most times. But it wasn’t like I knew him. And he didn’t know me. It wasn’t like we called each other on birthdays and holidays. Or sent little text just to make sure the other was hanging in there. There was nothing beyond the reason I picked up the phone other than to help him out.
Which, if I really thought about it, he didn’t need me. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t eventually get that call anyway. I kept trying to convince myself that I was some little help to him. That I made things easier for him. But the truth was, I didn’t do much. I just sent him on his way a bit before he had to be. The more I thought about it, the more I realized what I did was pointless and stupid. He didn’t need me. Hell, it was probably more of a risk that Ididcall him.
I had decided that I was slowly going crazy. All this sitting and watching other peoples’ lives go by was starting to wear me down. Hell, I had already started talking to myself. And while I wasn’t at that point that I saw these people as my friends, I could see how that might not be far off. Would I even notice when that happened? Would I be able to see the moment I went over the edge and needed to be put away? Or would it just hit me one day and I’d end up in the corner, rocking back and forth, talking about how no one comes to visit me?
I needed a hobby. Something that I could focus on to calm my mind. To take me away from the things I submerged myself in practically every second of every day. I didn’t have any talents though. None that I could think of. I didn’t have a creative bone in my body. I couldn’t write for shit. I couldn’t paint or draw. My teachers used to give me that face that said they were trying so hard to find something redeeming in what I’d made. Yeah, some of it was really bad. I wasn’t exceptionally smart. I could get by, but I was pretty average at best. I wasn’t athletic by any means. Sure, my coordination was decent, but what the hell could I do with that?
Oh, I could get a dart board. That would be something. But then I thought about how I could possibly end up hurting myself and I scratched that idea. Plus, I would have bet that I wouldn’t be any good and I wasn’t feeling the whole tiny holes all in my wall vibe. It wouldn’t mesh with the direction I was going for my apartment.
In the end, I had nothing. So, I continued like always. I resigned to my fate of spending my days in a padded room down the road.
I had a mission. I had something to focus on. And that was all I really had time for.
