Waste of space

   Every day was almost exactly the same. He would wake up, have something to eat, then shower, look for a job and then lunch. After that, it would be hours and hours of basically nothing until dinner. At night and in the morning he would exercise a bit and before going to bed he would watch something, like a movie or whatever was available. That was life like for him, even after he had decided it would be different. His decisions in life had amounted to nothing and he didn’t know what to do.

 He had been living there for almost a year and nothing had happened, nothing at all. Not a single change since his arrival. He tried to keep it different by distracting himself with movie or by going out to walk around the city, but that didn’t change anything either. It was a perpetual movement he was trapped in, a series of actions he repeated every single day, every week and every single month, no matter the little differences like weather or things like that. Things didn’t change.

 He had tried to change them. He had really tried but he soon realized that one person couldn’t really change the world. Whoever had said that in the past was wrong. A single lonely human couldn’t change a thing in this world. Every major shift had to involve lots of people with a common goal and a certain organization. And he didn’t have that at all. He was alone and he depended on his parents for survival. They weren’t happy for him or anything, but they felt they couldn’t refuse him help.

 The money he received as an allowance was used very carefully to pay for the apartment, the bills and the food. Those were the normal expenses. He sometimes used the money for distractions, going out and that sort of thing. In those instances he would have to remember that he was taking money away for his food. He never minded. Besides, it wasn’t something he did often; on the contrary, he managed his money in the most careful way because it was just enough to survive.

 But that was the thing: he had been thinking for a long time if it was worth it to keep on living as he was. He was draining money from his parents every month, he was sitting on his ass doing nothing, except getting older and older people have a harder time getting a job. But no one was giving him a job, not now or before. Not when he was recently graduated or after his various years of studies all over the place. They had never acknowledged him as a nothing more than a man that could pick up a phone or move boxes from one place to the other.

 The money he earned for such jobs disappeared very fast. Most of it was taken away by the health service they provided, which he never used. And the rest was used to pay debts or bills. Nothing remained. Those times, whoever, he could grab a little more from his parents money in order to have fun, even for a short period of time. He would get drunk, go out and party and just forget about everything in his life and who he was. He lost himself every time or at least he tried.

 He loved going out to dark places with loud music, wherever they could have alcohol. He even tried drugs a couple of times but it wasn’t his thing. The point of it all was forgetting his life, which was pathetic and sad. He was a leech and a waste of space. He remembered that expression once and it had gotten stuck on his head since then because it described so well what he thought of his place in life. He did feel as if he was a waste of space and would have loved it to be different.

 But it wasn’t things are as they are and one’s blind optimism cannot change that. People want every single person in the world to think blindly that everything is going to be ok but the reality of life is that probably nothing will be ok. The world itself is more and more violent, not a hospitable place for actual life to develop. So why should people be blind to that? Why should be people avoid the truth, instead of embracing it and maybe then find a solution for whatever the problem is?

 Many times, he looked around his house and carefully planned his last day on Earth. It was kind of like a game he played with himself when things where a its lowest. He would imagine cutting his wrists on the tub and having one of those almost artistic deaths, with the blood tainting the water slowly and also spilling gently to the floor. It looked almost like a romantic thing inside his head. But it would take too long and that wasn’t something he was very eager about.

 He imagined many other outcomes for his life. Some more admittedly violent and graphic but others were even more subtle that the one in the tub. He had a great imagination, which he used laying on his bed, waiting for someone to respond to his calls looking for one of the many menial jobs the world had to offer. He had realized a while ago that no one was going to give him a good job where he could feel like a real person. He was apparently built to be a slave and he had decided he didn’t mind at all, it was his destiny all along and that was settled.

 Sure enough, he had two jobs latter on: one as part of the cleaning crew in a hospital and another one in a supermarket, doing basically the same thing. He would break his back for a pay that was laughable but there was nothing else to do. However, he decided one day to ask his parents not to send him any more money. They did ask him “why” but he never answered, so they just did as they were told and the subject never came up again, in telephone conversations or when he visited, which was rare.

He had decided he would survive with whatever he had. His meals were greatly reduced and he had to move to another apartment, one even smaller in a much uglier part of the city. He sold some of his belongings too, in order to pay for the first couple of months. He tried to set aside something every month for pleasure, such as alcohol or whatever he would be in the mood for. Those small moments were not of joy but of quiet and a certain peace, which he still enjoyed.

 After some months living his new life, he got very sick with the flu. He stopped earning money for almost three weeks. When the disease didn’t kill him, the lack of food almost did. He actually had to be rushed into the hospital but he escaped it as soon as he could because he didn’t have the money to pay for a hospital bed. He just bought bread and medicine and hoped for the best. He was fired from the hospital he worked in but kept the supermarket job, where they raised his salary a bit in order to make him do more stuff.

 As always, he didn’t really mind. He got better, or just about, and start working harder every day. The hours were longer than before and this time he had to work every single day of the week but at least he was distracted by something. He didn’t have time to ponder or think about what could have been or what the future may hold for him. Those were empty questions now and no one care about the answers. He had lost the will to rebel in any way. He just lived, if that’s what it’s called.

 He was eventually fired from that job too. Not long after that, he decided to jump off a bridge that passed over a highway. His parents had nothing to keep from him anymore, as he had sold almost everything except and old notebook he had kept from when he was young, Inside, he had written a number of stories and he had also drawn lots of characters and abstract figures. They took one look at it and then stored it away somewhere. The man became a memory and, after his parents died, it was as if he had never existed on this Earth.

Wedding planner

   The food was ready, the cake was in its place, all chairs and tables had been checked and even the sun was been monitored, as well as the clouds. As a wedding planner, Monica knew everything had to be perfect. She was paid, handsomely by the way, because people knew she was a control freak and in her job, that was a good thing. From the little boy or girl carrying the rings to the small couple on top of the cake, Monica knew everything about a marriage and always had it under control, having alternatives at hand when the time needed. She had left a job in real estate when a friend asked her to organize her wedding simply because she was much more thorough than her. And that party was still being remembered today, with all its beautiful details.

 So Monica had made wedding her life and now attended many of those a week, seeking only perfection. By now she was so recognized in the medium, that she had the privilege to choose her clients, instead of being the other way around. She would only choose those events that had something interesting in them like a great location, many people, cultural aspects and anything she could be interested in to make her business much more successful. She had done everything from Jewish weddings to gay weddings. She had made them on the beach, in the woods and even in a theme park. Monica always had the kind of food you wanted, the colors, the flavors, the music, the entertainment… She had it all for her successful business.

 What she didn’t have was that which all her clients had: someone by her side. Ironically, Monica had never been married or close to being married. She had never had a relationship that had the potential to go that far and the truth was she had never had time for love. Monica was so focused on doing well financially and socially that she had left on the side her needs as a woman with feelings of love and care. But it was, in fact, because those needs were not really that strong. Many people were amazed by this, specially her mother and other women that were close to her, but Monica was not at all romantic, had no interest in being a mother and when presented to men, she was always bored by all of them.

 If you think she may have been a lesbian, the answer is no. It was as simple as she had no feelings for anyone. She had experimented enough in high school and college and she had always enjoyed sex, but she had no need of having a partner or a love interest, at all. Her girl friends were always so amazed by the things she talked when referring to her job. She did the most beautiful things for so many people but when asked how she imagined her own wedding, she had absolutely no words and she often changed the subject. It was very awkward and people would normally go on to another thing.

 All of this was harder on her when men decided to approach. It has to be said that Monica was not a super model but she wasn’t a monster either. She had nice black hair and big brown eyes. Men always stared at her legs, which she often didn’t realize. When a guy decided to approach her, it was really uncomfortable because there were two things that may happen. The first one was that the guy may come and tell her a compliment but she would just be completely oblivious to his intentions. Normally, she wouldn’t even pay attention and would decide very fast to dismiss him, excusing herself by use of her work. Men never insisted because she would talk in such a cold way it was impossible to insist.

 The other case would be for her to be aware of the guy’s intentions but answering by being brutally honest with him. That did not happen as often as the other case, which was great because she was always very cold and harsh when telling someone she wasn’t, at all interest. Men would just think “What a bitch!” and leave the place immediately. And that was it, she was known as the queen of marriages for many women but many men also knew her as a cold bitch. And even women knew this last thing and didn’t mind because that way they thought they would have more control over their wedding that their future husbands, who women always thing have awful taste for things such as weddings.

 Monica was in love once, though. It had happened during her year as a realtor. She would show so many people house and apartments that it became dull and tiring after a short period of time. Then, one day, she met Frank. He was a wealthy young man working in his family’s business and had been commanded by his mother to buy a place in the city, near the office, to be always there if someone needed it. The fact is that Monica and Frank bonded when she showed him several apartments in one day, all enormous for one person and with bills that only a rich man like Frank could pay. But the truth was that, that day; they were both not as interested in the apartments as they were in each other.

 Some days later, they started dating and then Monica’s job took a back seat in her life. She went out with Frank often, to the movies, the theater or simply to have dinner in the most amazing restaurants. He always paid and she loved those details that made him a gentleman. Even the first time they had sex; she realized he was not a driven person, but a controlled one like herself. She liked that so she decided to let herself go a bit and enjoy whatever was happening between them. It was a great time in her life because she had it all: a job, a boyfriend and even money to make small investments, like a new apartment for herself. Frank promised to buy her things to fill it and she knew that it would be their love nest.

 However, that never happened. Blinded by love, Monica had not realized that she had no way of paying for all the bills of the apartment. Even with help from Frank, paying the bills would be very difficult and the truth was she didn’t want Frank to do everything on their future home. Because, although they had never talked about it, she intended to marry him soon. She had not tell any close friends about Frank because every time in the past she had a boyfriend, they had always been extremely judgmental of her because they thought of her control issues and wondered how she would use them in a relationship.

 The case was that she didn’t have to do a thing to end this relationship or to even make it crumble. Frank, as rich as he was, was not interested in her like she had always thought. He was a player and wanted to have many options in life, as he didn’t want any type of responsibility yet. He had been entrusted with a company that someone else was handling on his name. He just had to smile and go to work everyday. But the truth was he would often be high or drunk somewhere with random women, in parties or just having sex in the apartment Monica had gotten for him. When she found it, she felt extremely stupid and told him to fuck himself and never to call her. He was cruel as he told her that she was just using her for sex and that she wasn’t even good at that.

 Monica’s trust in love was destroyed that day and never really grew back. She didn’t blame anyone but herself because she knew she had being naïve and simply stupid every single day of that relationship, if you can even call it that. She was speechless and cried for several days, almost until the day a friend asked her to organize her wedding. Everything changed because of that: she sold the apartment and moved to one she could pay, she burned everything that had ever come from Frank and organized, with the help of a friend who was an expert in creating companies, everything she needed to have a successful business.

 Four years later, Monica had achieved her goal of being the most recognizable face of the wedding planning industry, Because for her it was an industry, as well as for the hundreds of women and men that came to her in order to get married, because they knew they would get whatever their imagination had created. No matter if they wanted silly costumes or the rarest wines in the world she would have it for those who needed it and could pay her fee. When at home, when the weddings were over, she would often think about her own future but she always failed to see love. She wanted sometimes, but there was nothing there. Sadly, that part of her had been torn apart.