Serious With Mona

“I’ve decided something Mona.”


“I don’t believe in love.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think it is fake. A sham. Created by man to control the populace. Like the Bible.”

“Whoa. Like the Bible.”

“Yeah. It is all mind control.”

“So love and the Bible are fake.”


“What brought this on?”

“Which one?”

“Fuck. Both?”

“Common sense and experience.”

“I don’t know what to say. Start with love. I’m gonna regret this.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Like love love? I think so.”

“You think so?”

“She was my everything. I would have done anything for her. Ruby. She understood me. We finished each other’s…”

“Sandwiches. Yeah. I’ve been there. And what happened?”

“We grew apart over time. I don’t know. Suddenly I was working two jobs and she was a full time student.”

“But shouldn’t love have been enough?”

“I thought so. Turns out she met someone in school. And they got closer as we got further apart.”

“That sucks.”

“It did. Started me on the cycle downward that led me to being stuck here with you.”

“So it all worked out in the end.”

“Ugh. Well that was fun reopening old wounds. Thanks. What does that prove?”

“That love is a fucking joke. Just chemical reactions. Fleeting at best.”

“Or it just wasn’t the right person.”

“Tomato tomahto.”

“Holy shit.”

“It doesn’t feel right.”

“Sounds like your last sexual encounter.”

“It does. Some things are off limits.”

“She touched your no no spot.”

“She did more than touch it.”

“Some guys like that.”

“Not this one.”

“Fair enough. How do you explain couples that stay together their entire lives?”

“Always an exception to the rule. Look at divorce rates nowadays. I thought I was in love twice and both times it fell apart. They make it seem like it is forever. But it is all so temporary.”

“What’s really going on? This isn’t your typical rant.”


“Seriously? What is going on?”

“Ever realize you are never going to find that person? Like you missed your chance?”

“Not anymore.”


“Yeah. I think she is the one.”

“No way. That is awesome!”

“It is. It really is.”

“I am so happy for you.”

“Thanks Mikey. Now we just have to find yours.”

“Naw. I think I am good knowing you have yours.”

“No you’re not.”

“I am. Really.”

“There is someone out there for you. You are a great guy.”

“I’m really not. I’m an asshole. Childish. The headaches. Always writing. Ranting. I’m not good for anyone. Hell, I don’t even like me.”

“Damn dude. You’re being a little harsh don’t you think?”

“No. I’m being honest. I have tried. Fuck Mona, I have really tried. Put myself out there. Opened up. And what do I get for it? Nothing. No one wants someone broken like me.”

“You are not…”

“I’m not saying this so you stroke my ego. Tell me to brush the dirt off and go out and try again. I have. I have brushed so much fucking dirt off I could cover a corn field ten times. I know the truth of it. Love is something for me to see in others. But not for me. It is a fools gambit for the lucky. And I am not lucky.”


“Not this time. Not again.”

“She is out there.”

“And she will reject me. Just like all the rest. I am a good time. A good lay. A weekend boyfriend until Mr Right comes along. A starter boyfriend. How many times does it have to happen before I get it through my thick skull?”

“Alright pal. You are weirding me out here. This isn’t you.”

“It is. This is the me at home alone hoping someone calls. This is the me making up excuses not to go to my friend’s wedding because it gets old going solo to watch two people so in love. This is the me I hide behind rants and pranks.”


“This is me. The one who is going to die alone. Love is a game and I am no good at it. I don’t know the rules. I just fuck up my turn so someone else can do it right.”

“She is out there. Possibly looking for you right now.”

“She won’t find me. And don’t tell me I have to stop looking and she will pop up. I tried that for the last two years. Why do you think I keep making the same mistakes? To alleviate the lonely for a little while. A couple minutes at a time. Cheap sex and booze. That is the grand accumulation of the last five years of my life. Notches on the bed post. Lines on my face.”

“There is always online dating.”

“Tried that. Deleted the apps.”

“You could go out.”

“The old man in the club, reeking of Calvin Klein’s desperation? No thanks.”

“Farmer’s Market?”

“Overpriced jams and families.”



“It’ll happen. Be patient.”

“You really believe that?”

“I do.”

“That’s sweet. Love you M2.”

“Love you too. You’ll come to my wedding. Right?”

“Yeah. Of course. I’m the best man after all.”

“Who said that?”

“Well I assumed.”

“Ass out of you and me.”

“But I have a speech.”

“You do?”

“No. But I can whip one up in seconds.”

“The subtitle of your sex life.”

“Brutal. But accurate.”

“So about the Bible?”

“Maybe later. I’m gonna take a walk.”

“She is out there. Somewhere.”

“Sure she is. Thanks for the talk sis.”

“You got it bro.”

“I think you mean best man.”

“Don’t fucking push it.”


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