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TITLE: Star Gazer | Previous Challenge Entry
By Freaks RUS
02/09/08
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My girlfriend broke up with me today. I cried. Then I called and asked her if she’d like to go to the Planetarium with me this weekend. When you think about it, that’s really not such a bad response, now is it? What to do next; that question spawns utter creativity in me every time it comes up. Too bad I don’t always think to ask it, even when apropos. I could use a little extra creativity from time to time. She broke up with me, said it was over, but unless she has a change of heart between now and Sunday, we’re going to the Planetarium. I know that seems surreal, it felt so when I thought of doing it, when I did it, and when she falteringly accepted. We’re broken up, I know that, but what’s the use in belaboring that point? My problem has always been laboring anyway…laboring over what I want from her, and what she’s willing to give. It’s the scab I just can’t stop picking lately; thus the breakup. She has a son. He’s a pistol. He likes me just fine, but he hates what I stand for, which is simply someone other than his father. He wants the fairy tale, can’t give it up. He’s ten, and I wonder how long it will take him to realize that life doesn’t always give you the fairy tale, and no, mom’s not getting back with dad. I can’t fault him though; I’m thirty-four, and I want the fairy tale too. But she can’t give either of us what we’re looking for. She can’t move in with me and live happily ever after, because he has such a very hard time with my existence that he’ll make all of our lives hell if I move one step closer. She can’t get back with her ex because, like I said, life doesn’t always give us the fairy tale. I don’t know who holds the rights to my deepest sympathies over this - mother, son, or me. I take turns with each. Life is a mess, and the messes we make for ourselves give birth to even more messes. But what’s next? Sunday is next; that I do know. It always comes right after Saturday. I’ll count on that at least. Maybe we all must give up on our individual fairy tales. Maybe that’s the only way we can write a new story. Fairy tales don’t need to exist in real life as long as some form of redemption does. I’ve heard tell that redemption is real. I’ve heard a story of redemption that beats all of the fairy tales I’ve ever heard. I’ll put my faith in that, try to let go of the rest, and go to the Planetarium on Sunday. I won’t plan on much after that. I don’t know how it will go. Good or bad though, when Sunday comes and goes I’ll try not to labor over it too much. I’ll try to remember to simply ask again, what’s next?

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