The Scriblerian
Invictus
This is still uncompleted, however here is one of the stories I'm working on. Please critique.
<o
></o> Since the days when my father would shuffle into our house from his weekend crack binges looking half dead and as though he had just come from the depths of hell itself, the power of what I heard described as only Withdrawal had captivated me. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand how someone could want and need something so bad that their bodies would get physically ill and their minds twisted around it utterly. To me, it seemed as simple as truly making up your mind on the matter and then forgetting about it. It seemed so very simple to me that I remember even saying to my father during one our conversations that we always seemed to have to have upon his return, “Why is it that you just don’t quit?! Is that so hard? It only takes a little self control!”
His only reply was, “You don’t understand,” and he was right. I absolutely had no concept of what a true withdrawal felt like and how it could totally overpower every fabric of your being. Finally though, this is no longer the case. Fifteen years later now, I finally understand just what my father hadn’t been able to put into words all that time ago. And, I’m only sad to say that I had to learn the hard way.
My own experience and understanding of the power of withdrawal came in a much different and more beautiful form then my father’s grotesque addiction. While his had been crack cocaine, mine had simply been the withdrawal of not feeling the reciprocation of my love from the woman who I knew for sure was destined to be my counterpart and companion in this dying world. Sadly though, when I mention that fact, many immediately begin to tell me how different these two feelings are and how much stronger the withdrawal from a drug is compared to that of a certain love, but alas, each of them is foolish or honestly does not know the depth of such a love as only a few as lucky as myself are able to find in this realm of evil who no other then the devil rules.
To accurately tell this tale though, I believe first I must explain the exact nature of this love which I have claimed as the main component of my withdrawal and, in the end, my utter misfortune. Bluntly, it is to my opinion that when you find that one true soul in this world meant to melt and combine with your own, you will know it immediately. And, such was the case when I met her. (I will use the simple words her and she to fill in for my love as writing her name seems to be an impossible task without my hands shaking and eyes burning.) From the very second I looked into her eyes upon our first meeting-as cliché as it no doubt sounds-I knew that our futures were to never be the same and in fact, to be somehow connected until our time’s were done.
How this was I don’t know, but calling the memory back now, I’m pulled in between both happiness and sorrow in my being perfectly elated that I was absolutely right in my feeling the complete and total unity of our souls, but inescapably heartbroken because of what that wondrous bond would endure.<o></o>
Putting that aside for now though, what is truly important for you to know is that from the second of our first meeting, she occupied my thoughts during almost every hour of my days for the duration of our relationship. Constantly I would wonder where she was, what she was doing, who she had seen, what she was thinking, what I could do on this day to make her happy, and so forth. Indeed, my every action was either for her or through her for a time that may not have been all too long, but now seems as though my entire life. (I admit that I in fact find that I don’t remember any of my life former to the day I met her. I still wonder at what point it is those memories began to fade.)
Needless to say I would hope, my love for her ran as hot and as deep as my blood itself through my veins. My every thought, action, dream, and even draw of breath came through or because of her. Life’s goal became to me nothing more then keeping her happy, no matter the cost. I even went to the extremes of dropping out of college and therefore changing my career goals from ones of grandeur and true success to that of a small time brick layer simply so I could have more time for her and money to support her with.
After everything we had been through, I was shocked when she admitted that she, the woman who gave my life meaning, had feelings for the man I had considered my best friend---the very man I had hoped to have as my best man in my wedding. Anger flooded my senses, but I cared so much for her that I let her soothe me with what I found later to be false promises[FONT="]. [/FONT]So upset was I at first that I remember standing in front of my vanity stunned at this odd redness that had overcome the mass of almost my entire torso. As mentioned though, she managed to convince me that her mistake was done and never again was she to have feelings for another again, even promising to talk my so called ‘best friend’ as soon as we were finished to clear all matters up. She even went as far as to make me somewhat understanding of his predicament, explaining to me how hard this had been for him and how he held back the feelings until her own actions made him think that he could finally admit them to her. (Like she, I find the writing of his name rather unbearable and shall therefore simply use him and he as the defining points for that man.) Happy with that result, that night was to be the final good sleep I was to have.
Awaking the next day with a smile and cheery disposition, I found a slight evil pleasure in knowing that as a part of the day’s events I was bound to run into him. Still angry, I forced that feeling down and instead replaced it with one of forgiving, as I knew that would be what she would hope for me to do and later respect if I did. Going about my day then, I was soon to find that not only were he and I to simply cross paths, as I originally had thought, but we were to actually spend the duration of the day together inside a large building in need of both my skills and his along with many others.
Because of that, hour upon hour I waited for him to finally approach me and speak about the topic that was inevitably to happen in-between us. Sadly though, hour upon hour he only showed his immaturity by avoiding me completely, even going as far as to avoid coming within twenty feet of me, even if that meant walking around the entire outside of the building to get from one area to another for whatever reason. At first irritated at this, using her encouragement from the night before, I tried to understand what he must be feeling and decided that shame and embarrassment to the degree that he must’ve no doubt felt would’ve convince me to stay properly away from the person I had wronged that much too, should the roles be switched in some cosmic way.
Eventually though, only as the day was drawing to a close, did he finally decide it time to own up to his error and talk to me face to face as a man should in such a delicate situation. Approaching me with his ever so kind smile he said lightly, “I’m sorry.” And, reciprocating the smile, I immediately remembered why it was I had been able to accept this man as my close friend. Shaking his hand and making light of it, I simply said, “Nothing that can’t be worked out and forgiven, my friend.”
Agreeing to speak more after we finished up our day’s tasks, I felt as though I handled this entire situation as a mature being and could stand with my shoulders high as I had managed to keep humble in all of this.
But alas, such was not to be the case! For, not long into the restart of our conversation over dinner, I was once again shocked and this time physically made ill as he, the miserable worm that he is, explained to me that his apology earlier had not been for trying to steal her away from me, but because she had led him to believe that he was her pick and I was to be gotten rid of!
Imagine if you can the sheer pain of having everything you cared about in your heart being ripped away as though you didn’t at all matter nor had a say in the decision! Immediately, even with a surprising speed, the symptoms of my withdrawal began as with the mind of a true madman, I began to plan my painful revenge and demise against these two traders to my heart and soul. Even as he spoke his words of peace and tried to comfort me, my head nodded with a fake smile as my mind reeled with idea after idea until finally, all my plans fell into place.
Bitter Sweet Withdrawal
<o
></o>A short story
By
Scribbler
<o></o>
<o
></o><o> </o>
> </o>His only reply was, “You don’t understand,” and he was right. I absolutely had no concept of what a true withdrawal felt like and how it could totally overpower every fabric of your being. Finally though, this is no longer the case. Fifteen years later now, I finally understand just what my father hadn’t been able to put into words all that time ago. And, I’m only sad to say that I had to learn the hard way.
My own experience and understanding of the power of withdrawal came in a much different and more beautiful form then my father’s grotesque addiction. While his had been crack cocaine, mine had simply been the withdrawal of not feeling the reciprocation of my love from the woman who I knew for sure was destined to be my counterpart and companion in this dying world. Sadly though, when I mention that fact, many immediately begin to tell me how different these two feelings are and how much stronger the withdrawal from a drug is compared to that of a certain love, but alas, each of them is foolish or honestly does not know the depth of such a love as only a few as lucky as myself are able to find in this realm of evil who no other then the devil rules.
To accurately tell this tale though, I believe first I must explain the exact nature of this love which I have claimed as the main component of my withdrawal and, in the end, my utter misfortune. Bluntly, it is to my opinion that when you find that one true soul in this world meant to melt and combine with your own, you will know it immediately. And, such was the case when I met her. (I will use the simple words her and she to fill in for my love as writing her name seems to be an impossible task without my hands shaking and eyes burning.) From the very second I looked into her eyes upon our first meeting-as cliché as it no doubt sounds-I knew that our futures were to never be the same and in fact, to be somehow connected until our time’s were done.
How this was I don’t know, but calling the memory back now, I’m pulled in between both happiness and sorrow in my being perfectly elated that I was absolutely right in my feeling the complete and total unity of our souls, but inescapably heartbroken because of what that wondrous bond would endure.<o
></o>Putting that aside for now though, what is truly important for you to know is that from the second of our first meeting, she occupied my thoughts during almost every hour of my days for the duration of our relationship. Constantly I would wonder where she was, what she was doing, who she had seen, what she was thinking, what I could do on this day to make her happy, and so forth. Indeed, my every action was either for her or through her for a time that may not have been all too long, but now seems as though my entire life. (I admit that I in fact find that I don’t remember any of my life former to the day I met her. I still wonder at what point it is those memories began to fade.)
Needless to say I would hope, my love for her ran as hot and as deep as my blood itself through my veins. My every thought, action, dream, and even draw of breath came through or because of her. Life’s goal became to me nothing more then keeping her happy, no matter the cost. I even went to the extremes of dropping out of college and therefore changing my career goals from ones of grandeur and true success to that of a small time brick layer simply so I could have more time for her and money to support her with.
After everything we had been through, I was shocked when she admitted that she, the woman who gave my life meaning, had feelings for the man I had considered my best friend---the very man I had hoped to have as my best man in my wedding. Anger flooded my senses, but I cared so much for her that I let her soothe me with what I found later to be false promises[FONT="]. [/FONT]So upset was I at first that I remember standing in front of my vanity stunned at this odd redness that had overcome the mass of almost my entire torso. As mentioned though, she managed to convince me that her mistake was done and never again was she to have feelings for another again, even promising to talk my so called ‘best friend’ as soon as we were finished to clear all matters up. She even went as far as to make me somewhat understanding of his predicament, explaining to me how hard this had been for him and how he held back the feelings until her own actions made him think that he could finally admit them to her. (Like she, I find the writing of his name rather unbearable and shall therefore simply use him and he as the defining points for that man.) Happy with that result, that night was to be the final good sleep I was to have.
Awaking the next day with a smile and cheery disposition, I found a slight evil pleasure in knowing that as a part of the day’s events I was bound to run into him. Still angry, I forced that feeling down and instead replaced it with one of forgiving, as I knew that would be what she would hope for me to do and later respect if I did. Going about my day then, I was soon to find that not only were he and I to simply cross paths, as I originally had thought, but we were to actually spend the duration of the day together inside a large building in need of both my skills and his along with many others.
Because of that, hour upon hour I waited for him to finally approach me and speak about the topic that was inevitably to happen in-between us. Sadly though, hour upon hour he only showed his immaturity by avoiding me completely, even going as far as to avoid coming within twenty feet of me, even if that meant walking around the entire outside of the building to get from one area to another for whatever reason. At first irritated at this, using her encouragement from the night before, I tried to understand what he must be feeling and decided that shame and embarrassment to the degree that he must’ve no doubt felt would’ve convince me to stay properly away from the person I had wronged that much too, should the roles be switched in some cosmic way.
Eventually though, only as the day was drawing to a close, did he finally decide it time to own up to his error and talk to me face to face as a man should in such a delicate situation. Approaching me with his ever so kind smile he said lightly, “I’m sorry.” And, reciprocating the smile, I immediately remembered why it was I had been able to accept this man as my close friend. Shaking his hand and making light of it, I simply said, “Nothing that can’t be worked out and forgiven, my friend.”
Agreeing to speak more after we finished up our day’s tasks, I felt as though I handled this entire situation as a mature being and could stand with my shoulders high as I had managed to keep humble in all of this.
But alas, such was not to be the case! For, not long into the restart of our conversation over dinner, I was once again shocked and this time physically made ill as he, the miserable worm that he is, explained to me that his apology earlier had not been for trying to steal her away from me, but because she had led him to believe that he was her pick and I was to be gotten rid of!
Imagine if you can the sheer pain of having everything you cared about in your heart being ripped away as though you didn’t at all matter nor had a say in the decision! Immediately, even with a surprising speed, the symptoms of my withdrawal began as with the mind of a true madman, I began to plan my painful revenge and demise against these two traders to my heart and soul. Even as he spoke his words of peace and tried to comfort me, my head nodded with a fake smile as my mind reeled with idea after idea until finally, all my plans fell into place.