The twists and turns. The quirks and dilemmas.
We grow old but we don’t learn, unless we’re unfortunate.
My cousin has a baby now and she is overjoyed. Her husband is overprotective already.
A friend has a son he was not aware of. His existence has turned his life upside down.
Most of us have met the wrong person at the wrong time, but few are cursed to be born to the wrong parents and labelled an ‘inconvenience’. He repeats the empty words “I love my son” over and over, as if to prove to me he means it.
I want to laugh, not because I’m so unkind. I am not laughing at his ‘misfortune’, but at life itself and all its confused blessings.
When he sobers up the next morning he will regret sharing with me, I’m sure. But in his intoxicated state all he can do is babble on about how ‘great’ his life is. I let him talk, because it must have been a while since someone listened. I let him talk, even though it’s simply alcohol disguised as easy comfort.
One minute he’d tell me how wonderful the single life is, how he can bring girls home and fuck them senseless then never see them again. The next minute he’ll lament at how he screwed up, how she hates him and has every right to, and why he can never see his son even though he loves him.
“I send him money. I want to provide for him. It’s the least I can do now. I have the money.”
“I have the money.”
Every time he said it, I felt a little sadder. When did he become so poor that all he had left was money?