Wet Socks

It’s not raining outside, but I’m pretty sure the floor is wet.

The windows are all closed; there are no leaks on the pipes. I check the kitchen, the bathroom and even the washing machine, but all of the faucets are closed. I’m quite clumsy, it could’ve been that I just spilled some water, but I already cleaned that up, and the carpet is damp.

I wonder where all this water came from, I keep mopping the floor, but it seems that there’s just more and more every time. Trying to be more pragmatic, I’m now using the bucket and throwing the liquid out of the window, but it’s no good. The whole place is flooded a couple of my things are just floating around, a book, a pillow and a box. My bed is now a boat, which I try to sail, but there’s just no shore. Using drawers as rows isn’t very useful either, is just an endless horizon.

This sailboat is shrinking, I guess I’ll just have to swim, is not a very wise decision, never been good at swimming, but there’s just no other way to go.

The water is warm and salty, reminds me to a Caribbean island’s beach, although the situation is way different from summer vacations. I’m exhausted, my lungs are hurting, all my muscles defeated in pain, the only thing that keeps me going is survival instinct, because there’s not even hope anymore.

I don’t know when did it happen, but I realized –too late- that I just couldn’t keep paddling anymore I’ve just become numb, floating with the current, my limbs won’t respond to my commands, they are just too tired for that. If you add the fact that I’ve haven’t eaten or drank anything in the past couple of days, I’m pretty sure you could call this my last hour.

Still, I wonder, were did all this water come from? The last thing I remember it was just a little pond on my floor tile, how did I end up drowning in this endless ocean? And suddenly it hit me. I didn’t realize before, because I was trying to hide it, I don’t know if I was trying to keep it away from everyone, or just to fool myself. The water I was drowning in came from my weeping, the thing is that, I wasn’t crying on the outside, but inside, it was a rainy all along.

It was a lament, but not a lament for you, because now I think you’re not worth it, not even a bit. It was a lament for me, for having the illusion that you actually cared about me. That was my mistake, not yours. While we were together, you weren’t perfect, and neither was I, but we suited each other quite well, you made me happy, respected my decisions and for a little while, I could swear you loved me, just a bit. I always knew it was going to end, but now I guess it never really began.

As always, I was trying to keep a nice attitude about it, just letting it go, being optimistic and not paying much attention to it. But that façade couldn’t last for long. Yes it is true I never really loved you the way you wanted me too, yes it is true I left some scars in your heart, just as you left some on mine along the way. Yes, I always knew it was a contract, that was going to expire on the day any of us left, whoever did it first, but I don’t know why, I don’t really know why I kept my hopes high that we would care about each other once it was over.

Now I see I was being too naïve, just because I cared about your wellbeing, it didn’t mean that you would care about mine’s. I won’t say that I don’t care, because I still do, not in the way I used too, but I just don’t like to be resentful, or to have bad blood with anybody. But I guess that if you’re going to play your cards that way, I might as well bluff -even If I have a pair of twos- or just quit the game overall.

Some sunrays are now pointed at my eyes; stripes drown in the sheets by the window blinds. I remember I was drowning, but now I think I’m just waking up from a dream, a very enlightening one.

I get out of bed, and suddenly I feel something unpleasant at my feet, although everything is dry, there is a small puddle next to my bed, and my socks got all wet because of it.

Dream or reality, frankly, I don’t give a damn, either way, wet socks are just plain sickening.

PD: Si te das cuenta de algun error de gramatica, se tan amable de comunicarmelo :).

1 comments:

The Man said...

The solution to wet socks is simple.
Remove your socks.
There can be no wet socks without having a sock in the first place.

Thus, no sock no problem. Only wet feet.

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