One Week with No Mona

“Good morning Mona!”


“Oh yeah. Another week until you’re back from vacation.”


“This sucks.”


“Sometimes I question everything. Like why do I even bother. My only healthy relationship is here with you. And it is antagonistic. My life is empty. Devoid of any meaning except regaling you with stories from a better time.”


“I have nothing. I’m alone. If it wasn’t for alcohol and meaningless sex I would just stay at home in my cave looking for reasons to keep going.”


“Yeah. It is sad. I’m sad.”


“No one loves me. Sure I have friends but they have their own lives. It isn’t like when I was twenty and we would drop everything to go to the bar. Smoke a couple joints and laugh all night like loons. Those were the days. Now they have families. Kids. Pets. Significant others. It all makes me feel like an outsider.”


“I have become that weird guy that comes over and watches their mundane existence and actually feel envious. Why didn’t that happen to me?”


“I guess I pissed away every chance at a normal life I was given. Always chased the wrong dream. The wrong girl. Set unrealistic goals and gave up half way there.”


“All I have is my writing. Which is terrible. And this job. I would say and you but judging from your Facebook posts, you forgot who I was the second you clocked out.”


“I am really depressed. Like, I need help level depressed. Meds possibly. Or a psyche ward stay. Some nights my own thoughts scare the shit out of me. How dark it becomes. So dark.”


“I don’t know anymore. I’m not sure I want to keep this charade going. Judy was my last chance at happiness and I sabotaged that. I would say on accident but I don’t know any more if that is true.”


“I repeat the same cycle. Fall for a good girl. Have a moment or two of happiness. Then pick it apart until all that is left is a carcass and pile of innards I can not put back in. Then when it falls apart, irrevocably broken, I return to drinking and blaming the world.”


“It isn’t the world’s fault. It is mine. I see that all too clearly. Especially now. All I am is empty stories from another life. The punchline to a joke no one wanted to hear. An occasional unnecessary tale that goes too far.”


“But you know all of this already.”


“I met someone the other day. Really hit it off. She gave me her number but I didn’t call it. I just sat there and played what was going to happen in my head. Three months of fun. Two of fighting. The inevitable break up. The beginning of another year alone.”


“I deleted the number off of my phone. She didn’t try and text me so there wasn’t really any point bothering her.”


“I can’t keep this up. I can’t change. I don’t like my options going forward. What am I supposed to do?”

“Wow. That is really sad.”

“Marie? How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to realize you might not be such an asshole.”

“Oh I am.”

“It is all bluster and bravado with you. Inside you are just a scared little boy who wants someone to love him.”

“Am not.”

“Well good luck on that. There is cake in the break room. It is the boss’s birthday.”

“Thanks Marie.”

“He told me to tell you.”


“Well I did. Go back to talking to her empty chair.”

“Can we keep this between us?”


“That’s fair.”

“Did you ever stop to think maybe if you put as much effort into a relationship as you do with your friendship with Mona, people would think you’re less of an asshole.”


“Didn’t think so.”


“Well. This is just a layer of diarrhea on a shit cake.”


“At least someone knows to check for a body if I stop coming into work.”



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