Ten minutes of happiness

"I'm sorry," he heard it today, and to this day, he still doesn't quite understand who was apologizing to him and for what. He'd been optimistic for a week. "I finally have someone. Things will definitely be okay now." It was so nice to think about it. They'd known each other for a while. She was the girlfriend of his friend, a good friend, and that's why he'd been a bit hesitant at first. He simply didn't know what to say. "Listen, man, I know you two were together, but now I'm dating her, and I'm actually starting to care." He wondered how he'd take it. He knew him well enough to know he wouldn't lose a friend over a girl. And he was really starting to care about her. She smoked. He could even accept that, even though he desperately wanted her not to. He hated cigarettes. The sight of a pretty girl who smoked left him feeling a certain disappointment, something like, "She's so pretty and she smokes." He didn't like the sight of a girl with a cigarette, yet he was glad he had her. It was a living contradiction of his principles, which he had always valued so highly. One look into her eyes, when she was still happy to see him, and he knew that was more important than cigarettes. The first time he snuggled up to her, he felt how much he missed this, how much he needed shelter. He told her how happy he was to have her by his side. He finally felt grounded. When she once showed jealousy, he couldn't believe it. On the one hand, he was happy that she cared about him, on the other, he knew she would be suspicious of every female friend. His mind was spinning. He remembered now every look, every gesture. When she still looked at him with affection, and he saw something in her eyes. Not love, because it was still too early for that, but the initial infatuation he felt. That look healed all wounds, made his heart beat faster. Did he love her? Love was a big word, and it was probably too early to juggle its meanings. He felt good with her. Sometimes he was afraid he wouldn't cope, that he couldn't have a girlfriend, and now he knows he was right. Perhaps it's even better that he's alone; at least he'll be independent of everyone. He was deceiving himself. Sometimes, when he sees two happy people holding hands, looking into each other's eyes, and whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears, a sudden rage seizes him, his whole soul rebels, everything screams, "I want that too!! I need happiness too!" Then he smiles sadly to himself and looks away. His mind goes blank. There's a techno party in a week. Luckily, he'll be able to reset. Let go of everything, look at a nice ass, and think, "You're damn lucky you don't know me and don't feel anything for me." He didn't know if loneliness was the right solution. One thing was certain: loneliness was the only solution. Talk to others, laugh, joke, and don't let anyone too close to you because it would all end in nothing. Grabbing your ten minutes of happiness and then paying for it wasn't for him. Not anymore.You have to be tough, and he'd never been. Naive, he thought the soul was reflected in their eyes, but it turned out to be just an illusion, a mirage. He'd thought about their future together, but the present had crumbled. He liked her approach to the children. She'd cuddle them, kiss them, and she didn't mind changing their diapers. "She'll be a good mother someday," he thought, and felt that his children could have a mother like that. Not that he would now, but it was nice to think about it. Everything came crashing down in the present. Now it's time to sing alone. Sing alone. So many songs were rushing to his lips. "I guess it's my fault." He hadn't been able to meet her expectations? Had he offended her somehow? But what? He didn't even know what to say when he heard it was over. What could he say? That he wanted to be with her? What good would that do? He decided he was a damned naive guy and left. Why torment her and himself? He regretted being the kind of person who, after something like that, dwelled on his every move, every word. Maybe it's this, or maybe it's that. He can't get over the defeat. Sometimes the thought occurs that she might change her mind, want to be with him again, that everything will work out, but then resignation comes. It was probably the strangest relationship of his life. A few days. Nothing foreshadowed this turn of events, what had made her lose her mind, maybe she would reconsider, miss her. "Hush now, don't think about anything. Calm down, it will be better. Someday. But for now, calm down." It wasn't that he felt like crying. Not even that. He felt like deceiving himself by crying. He didn't love her yet. Once, when he was alone in a room with a friend, he heard, "So, are you in love?" He smiled and decided it was still too early for that. It was good that he was careful in that respect, at least, as if he felt something, an inner voice saying, "Be careful." Thanks to him, he suffered much less than if he had gotten involved. He simply felt good for those few days. It really felt like ten minutes. A moment of pleasant bewilderment, the knowledge that you have somewhere to go, that someone will always take you in. That's nice. Everyone needs that. He thought he could last at least a month with him. Strange. He wondered how someone could change their minds from one day to the next, just like that. Today we're together, tomorrow don't come to see me. He would have understood if they were both teenagers, but in your twenties, you expect a certain responsibility for your actions. It turned out they didn't. Stupidity. He'd been a naive fool, wanting to find refuge from his own thoughts, and now they surrounded him like a swarm of angry wasps. And they stung, stung, stung. He needed to reset himself, to forget. We'll see how it goes.Not that it was now, but it was nice to think about it. Everything comes down to the present. Now it's time to sing alone. Sing alone. So many songs were rushing to his lips. "It's probably my fault." Couldn't he live up to her expectations? Had he offended herself somehow? But what? He didn't even know what to say to her when he heard it was over. What could he say? That he wanted to be with her? What good would that do? He decided he was a damn naive guy and left. Why torture her and himself? He regretted being the kind of person who, after something like that, dwells on every move, every word. Maybe it was because of this, maybe because of that. He can't get over a defeat. Sometimes the thought occurs that she might change her mind, that she might still want to be with him, that everything would work out, but then resignation comes. It was probably the strangest relationship of his life. A few days. Nothing foreshadowed this turn of events, what had upset her, what would have made her think, miss her. "Hush now, don't think about it. Calm down, it'll be better. Someday. But calm down now." It wasn't that he felt like crying. Not even that. He felt like crying would be fooling himself. He didn't love her yet. Once, when he was alone in a room with a friend, he heard, "So, are you in love?" He smiled and decided it was too early for that. It was good that at least in that respect he was careful, as if he felt something, an inner voice saying, "Be careful." Thanks to him, he suffered much less than if he had gotten involved. He simply felt good for those few days. It really felt like ten minutes. A moment of pleasant dizziness, the knowledge that you had somewhere to go, someone would always take you in. That was nice. Everyone needed that. He thought he could last at least a month with him. Strange. He wondered how someone could change their minds from one day to the next, just like that. Today we're together, and tomorrow don't come to see me. He'd understand if they were both teenagers, but in your twenties, you expect a certain amount of responsibility for your actions. Turns out, no. Stupidity. He'd been a naive fool, longing to find refuge from his own thoughts, and now they were swarming him like a swarm of angry wasps. And they were stinging, stinging, stinging. He needed to reset himself, to forget. We'll see how it goes.Not that it was now, but it was nice to think about it. Everything comes down to the present. Now it's time to sing alone. Sing alone. So many songs were rushing to his lips. "It's probably my fault." Couldn't he live up to her expectations? Had he offended herself somehow? But what? He didn't even know what to say to her when he heard it was over. What could he say? That he wanted to be with her? What good would that do? He decided he was a damn naive guy and left. Why torture her and himself? He regretted being the kind of person who, after something like that, dwells on every move, every word. Maybe it was because of this, maybe because of that. He can't get over a defeat. Sometimes the thought occurs that she might change her mind, that she might still want to be with him, that everything would work out, but then resignation comes. It was probably the strangest relationship of his life. A few days. Nothing foreshadowed this turn of events, what had upset her, what would have made her think, miss her. "Hush now, don't think about it. Calm down, it'll be better. Someday. But calm down now." It wasn't that he felt like crying. Not even that. He felt like crying would be fooling himself. He didn't love her yet. Once, when he was alone in a room with a friend, he heard, "So, are you in love?" He smiled and decided it was too early for that. It was good that at least in that respect he was careful, as if he felt something, an inner voice saying, "Be careful." Thanks to him, he suffered much less than if he had gotten involved. He simply felt good for those few days. It really felt like ten minutes. A moment of pleasant dizziness, the knowledge that you had somewhere to go, someone would always take you in. That was nice. Everyone needed that. He thought he could last at least a month with him. Strange. He wondered how someone could change their minds from one day to the next, just like that. Today we're together, and tomorrow don't come to see me. He'd understand if they were both teenagers, but in your twenties, you expect a certain amount of responsibility for your actions. Turns out, no. Stupidity. He'd been a naive fool, longing to find refuge from his own thoughts, and now they were swarming him like a swarm of angry wasps. And they were stinging, stinging, stinging. He needed to reset himself, to forget. We'll see how it goes.Everything would work out, but then resignation came. It was probably the strangest relationship of his life. A few days. Nothing foreshadowed this turn of events, which had upset her, perhaps she would reconsider, miss her. "Hush now, don't think about anything. Relax, it will be better. Someday. But for now, calm down." It wasn't that he felt like crying. Not even that. He felt like deceiving himself by crying. He didn't love her yet. Once, when he was alone in a room with a friend, he heard, "So, are you in love?" He smiled and decided it was still too early for that. It was good that he was careful in that respect, at least, as if he felt something, an inner voice saying, "Be careful." Thanks to him, he suffered much less than if he had committed. He simply felt good for those few days. It really felt like ten minutes. A moment of pleasant bewilderment, the knowledge that you had somewhere to go, someone would always take you in. It was nice. Everyone needs that. He thought he could last at least a month with him. Strange. He wondered how someone could change their minds overnight, just like that. Today we're together, tomorrow don't come to see me. He would have understood if they were both teenagers, but in their twenties, you expect a certain amount of responsibility for your actions. Turns out, no. Stupidity. He'd been a naive fool, longing to find refuge from his own thoughts, and now they were swarming him like a swarm of angry wasps. And they stung, stung, stung. He needed to reset himself, forget. We'll see how it goes.Everything would work out, but then resignation came. It was probably the strangest relationship of his life. A few days. Nothing foreshadowed this turn of events, which had upset her, perhaps she would reconsider, miss her. "Hush now, don't think about anything. Relax, it will be better. Someday. But for now, calm down." It wasn't that he felt like crying. Not even that. He felt like deceiving himself by crying. He didn't love her yet. Once, when he was alone in a room with a friend, he heard, "So, are you in love?" He smiled and decided it was still too early for that. It was good that he was careful in that respect, at least, as if he felt something, an inner voice saying, "Be careful." Thanks to him, he suffered much less than if he had committed. He simply felt good for those few days. It really felt like ten minutes. A moment of pleasant bewilderment, the knowledge that you had somewhere to go, someone would always take you in. It was nice. Everyone needs that. He thought he could last at least a month with him. Strange. He wondered how someone could change their minds overnight, just like that. Today we're together, tomorrow don't come to see me. He would have understood if they were both teenagers, but in their twenties, you expect a certain amount of responsibility for your actions. Turns out, no. Stupidity. He'd been a naive fool, longing to find refuge from his own thoughts, and now they were swarming him like a swarm of angry wasps. And they stung, stung, stung. He needed to reset himself, forget. We'll see how it goes.how it will be.how it will be.