There are uneven stripes on the couch. Light blue, white, light blue, black, white, then lastly comes the dried blood color. The pattern starts all over again after that. I don't really like the uneven stripes. It's the little OCD quirk I carry with me. I like everything to be even, to make sense as it were. This couch obviously doesn't fit that description. Yet, I keep staring at it because it's better than watching the “hero” from Fable or whatever it’s called on the screen. Or watching my boyfriend's hand control the joystick in a circular manner in order to defeat some bandit trying to steal whatever currency they use in that game. Normally, I can drag on watching the characters for an hour or two until he gets it out of his system; but, this time I can't seem to sit still. Every time a bandit tries to attack from behind a tree by the path, I hope Garrison gets his ass kicked. It physically pains me to watch Garrison’s imagery self stand victorious while holding his winnings between those little pixelated fingers.
But matter how much it causes me to remove a layer off my back molars, I keep my mouth shut. No point in making him pay me any attention when he's got his virtual life to lead. You know, it’s not like I’m wasting my gas to drive the hour even though it’s $3.42 a gallon. So I stare at this uneven couch memorizing the uneven stripes. Light blue, white, light blue..
Kay, I thought you did a good job of showing the boredom, frustration, and pain of being ignored while your boyfriend lived in his virtual world playing a video game. Focusing on the uneven stripes of the sofa and removing a layer from your back molars are such good descriptions of ways you manage to keep your mouth shut. How would he react if you told him that you could not visit next time because you cannot afford $3.42 a gallon for gasoline to watch him play video games? Or what would he do if you decided to move away from him, clearly in his line of vision,and lose yourself in a good book wearing only some very sexy lingerie?
ReplyDelete