I grow weary of your insecurities (a short)

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She looked down the way she always does, eyes fixated on her felt shoes even though she really was obstructed in her own darkness. Her head at a despondent tilt, anxious of what was soon to come. He took a drag off his cigarette, flicked his ember impatiently and repeated the process. The silence between the two grew with tension and competed with each other in bitter serenity. All that they could hear that night was the whistle of the wind and the hum of the industrial machinery overhead; even the winds of the cricket orchestra was drowned out by the man-made mechanisms. Connor, now growing annoyed began to pace back and forth on the concrete patio; which looked as if it has not seen a broom in years, he kicked the dirt and dust until it dissipated in the air. He shot disgruntled looks at Laura out of the corner of his eye, not locking a stare for more than a second out of fear of starting conversation. Pride wouldn’t allow him to do such a thing.

“It was me that put in the last word” he thought angrily. “…Or was it her? Come on memory don‘t fail me now!”. His thoughts were in a jumble and mind, haphazard. He couldn’t think clearly as he would sober. One more ****ing beer, that would do it! He kicked one of the pillars to the awning in frustration and barely glazed the surface of his left pinky toe. Connor let out a cry even louder than the workings of the electricity refinery behind his back yard, “SHIIIIITTTTTT”, he dropped to the ground holding his left foot. He continued to himself, “Nice move smart ass”.

Now even more frustrated he looked to her to see if she had acknowledged him in any way, but what he saw was a void gap sitting between the butane BBQ and the screen door window. In the same position as to when she first got there in that very same spot. Laura with bangs covering her red puffy eyes and arms wrapped around her perfectly tanned thighs. Finally he stood and broke the ice with, “If you aren’t going to say anything you could just leave; We both know you aren‘t mute”. At last, she sighs and moved her arms as if she was brushing away cobwebs; her hand goes for her large leather bag and pulls out a pack of Marlboro lights. Taking her time to light the cigarette in almost a mechanical way, muscles stiff like her solemn facial expression throughout the entire time of being there.

She cleared her throat a couple of times before she said meekly, “I don’t understand why this is such a problem. If you really did lov-” Connor then abruptly said, “Don’t you even pull that card, it’s harder than it looks okay?!”. Laura unfortunately had a knack for making things a bit melodramatic, and so everything that was said in argument translated to him as a afternoon soap drama. There was a pause for a few minutes before he continued on with, “Can we just forget about this? Look Laura, I love you. I know this may be hard to believe at times but I’d do anything just to have you”.

A sympathized countenance struck her face, this wasn’t news to her. But whenever she took in nice things about her she processed that as new bits of information. She was a little more at ease now, he no longer heard the “whizzes and whirs” that escorted her movement -- Laura made a smooth transition from a secure position to standing up confidently. Connor was about a foot taller than her, but the way she carried herself she could have been mistaken for a 6 foot body builder.

She put out her cigarette and said softly, “Connor I love you too, I have loved you for a long time. And I promise I won‘t take it personal anymore, I’ll deal. But you have to promise you won’t complain about it either”. She lingered a bit longer before finishing, “I mean it’s normal for most guys to have the inability to get it up in bed. It’s even common. We’ll work through this”. As she said this, he smiled and gave her a kiss on the forehead.



Critique, yeah?