Adam Lambert, Plato, Sara Bereilles, Chandler Bing and Adele

Before anything, I’d like to emphasise that the following is purely artistic expression and has no bearing to anything I’ve said or done in the past few years (or as far as I remember). Hope you guys see the humour in it (or the sadness, if you allow). 

I don’t think I asked a lot of you.

You don’t think you did. But you did. I could feel it. Couldn’t you?

What could you feel?

Not love for you anymore, that’s for sure.

You don’t know how your words hurt me.

Oh, I know. I know well enough to use them against you.

Why?

Why not?

Does it make you feel alive?

Trust me, alive is not what I was ever looking for. I gave up on that ever since I met you. I thought you were it, but I was wrong.

So what do you want from me?

You sound like a fucking Adam Lambert song.

I apologize.

Of course you do. That’s all you know.

Not like I can help it. You’re the only one I’d be so …apologetic to. Am I making any sense?

Evidently not.

I fucking hate you, you know?

Then show it.

I can’t. I was always too afraid. A raised fist turns into a tender stroke on your inner tigh.

What the fuck?

I’m kidding. You know I can be this way.

Yeah. So here we are.

Here we are.

I loved you, you know?

I know.

How would you know? I’ve never actually said it.

Unlike me, you were able to show it.

How?

I don’t know. The long texts at irrelevant hours, the post it notes on my doorknob, the kisses at the nape of my neck. I could feel it. You didn’t really have to say anything.

Stop, it doesn’t matter anymore.

It matters to me.

But not to me! Can’t you see?

I am not entirely convinced. Please, show me so.

This is beginning to sound like a Plato dialogue.

Show.

I can only express this in words. I cannot show you something that doesn’t exist.

Fair enough. Say what you want to say.

Sara Bareilles, I see. But here goes. When I wake up in the morning I think of the day ahead and not of you. Before I sleep I think of everyone else out there whom I can meet.

By everyone else, you just mean

Guys. Yes, I mean guys. Every last one but you.

That sounds very unlike you

Just because I gave you part of myself it doesn’t mean you can understand me in my totality. I’ll never give my entire self to anyone, much less to someone like you.

Adele, I see.

You’re missing the point.

I’m cushioning the blow.

You’ll feel it anyway, might as well take it in now.

At this point, I’d say you’re pretty heartless but I think that would be stating the obvious.

You’re being deliberately sarcastic again and I’ve always hated that about you.

You used to love it.

Chandler was only funny in Friends. You can’t have Chandler in real life.

I’m not fucking Chandler.

You tried to be.

This is silly. Let’s stop this. What really went wrong?

I don’t think this is something you’d want to hear.

We’re already here. You might as well say it.

Ok fine. I just stopped seeing it ok?

What is ‘it’?

It?

Yeah. You said you stopped seeing ‘it’. What are you trying to say?

I stopped seeing a future with you! Do I need to spell it out?

Gosh.

I cried nights over this ok? I was so certain you were the one but fuck that. I don’t know why it all changed, but it did, ok?

Give me a break.

No, give ME a break. I think we both need one at this point.

Again, I’m not sure I share that sentiment.

You will have to.

Right now I just feel really hollow. It may take a few months to feel something again.

You’re being dramatic.

Can’t I be dramatic? You’ve taken away this huge chunk, God forbid you take away my right to be fucking dramatic about this, alright?

I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not.

There’s nothing to be sorry about. I figured we didn’t owe each other anything from the get go. This whole transaction could be largely imagined if you try hard enough.

Yes, I’m sure in time you can and will let this go.

Well fuck you. I loved you alright, so to think that this could be imagined? Fuck you.

No thanks.

I still believe in love. I still do. I won’t let that change.

Good luck with that, then.

I hope you die alone.

We can place bets on that one.

Please don’t go.

I’m sorry. I’m really sorry this time.

Fine then. Go. Just go.

Maybe this is for the best?

Cliché as fuck, don’t you think? Spare me.

I shall. Take care now.

Take care. Will we still talk?

Of course we will.

You sure?

I’m sure. I’ll be right here if you need me.

What a lie, please be on your way.

Well, if you’re not walking away then I am.

Walk away then.

Ok.

2 thoughts on “Adam Lambert, Plato, Sara Bereilles, Chandler Bing and Adele

  1. I chanced upon this and it inspired me to write something similar. I mean, the part you went: “You’re missing the point./I’m cushioning the blow.” Genius. Thanks!

    Like

    • Thanks bro. I’ve read some of your short stories, and I admire how they’re short, concise and to the point yet evoking all the right emotions. This is the sort of model I try to follow as well. I’m glad you find my writings worth the read, and I hope to read your coming works!!

      Liked by 1 person

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