Oui, quand je lis un livre, je m'imbibe du style de l'auteur... qu'il soit bon ou non. C'est pourquoi j'ai écris cette mini-nouvelle. Je me suis inspiré partiellement de ce qui s'est passé dans ma vie, et croyez-le ou non, de la mort de Jack Layton. LOL. Enjoy. Mettons que la prochaine fois je vais essayer de lire du Garcia Marquez. (;
Just last week, he told me that he wanted "to see me again" and I just lost it. It's so easy to fall for this guy, as if I was always standing, flickering at the edge of a cliff. I know the sight by heart, I have been here before. I felt its rocky surface against my teeth; it's hard as hell and on top of that, I left it unscratched. I guess that's what you get when you think you are as light as the wind and that you are free. When you think that you are invincible, you only crash down harder.
Therefore, I violently discarded his request. I remembered the stunning pain I felt inside my chest, and this feeling of utter idiocy that I got from looking at a mirror or at a kissing couple. The truth is, I thought I was way stronger than that. That I was way above this wish that gnaws my stomach right now.
So when I learn of his accident this morning I did not know what to think. And it was as if he had found a perfect way of betraying my already shaky trust – in him and in me. This guy always loved game, and I’m pretty sure I was one of his favorite pawns. A week from now, I didn’t even want to see him. And now, his absence is rendering my presence on this world absolutely ludicrous.
I never trusted him. I don’t trust him now either. I always wanted to know what he was really up to, but I never got close enough to him to decide whether he was a brilliant self-suffer genius or just the regular liar with a never ending bag of bullshit at his disposable to awe us all away.
And now I am unsure of everything. I am pondering his every word, every looks he gave me. I am also thinking of everything I never told him. No, I never clearly told him what I wanted from him. He couldn't know; even I didn’t. Each time I started think about it, I just sighted and evaded the subject. I told myself countless time : "Why can't I just be with him and feel that way, at this exact moment in time for ever and leave it at that?" and just like that, all my foolishness seemed so far away from me. I felt so great, so open-minded and free-spirited. It is only now, after his lost, that I can clearly see that I was afraid as hell.