Crazy For You ∆Under Construction∆

10.All's Fair

It was worth it. . .

Those are the words I whispered that night at the club believing they would be the truth and everyday after that would be easy. But he made me a fool by making me think that, he was just that good, good enough to blind me to what was really going on. For a while it was perfect and I was happy to be by his side nearly every night as his deadly piece of arm candy but after a while that flavor got old. Once I realized his version of us isn't what it's cracked up to be I became a lot less sweet.

If he had things his way I would forever be a glorified side kick, there to laugh on cue, tie up loose end and do girlfriend type things without him having to commit. That's the one place he can't hide the fear in his heart, every time he gets close to me and suddenly pulls away like he's gonna catch some kind of virus. Please. As of today he's gonna get over that fear of loving me or he can say goodbye forever. I didn't take this job for the salary, though it doesn't hurt. Today, however, I've decided to take a mental health day from being The Clown Prince of Crimes girlfriend for higher.

Pulling out my phone, I type up a text message written in a way that even he can't get confused.

I'm not coming.

I should probably put my phone on silent after sending a text like that, I know The Joker more than ever now and even a simple text like that can send him into a rage. He likes to remind me when he's in a bad mood that I'm here because I'm useful and that we are not a couple, I'm just another worker. What he says and what he does are two different stories with two different versions of himself. He tells himself that to make it all better in his head, sp he doesn't have to deal with actual feelings or the fact that he can be more than The Clown Prince. Whatever. If he wants to pretend I mean nothing to him or if I really am nothing to him, it shouldn't matter if I take a break. So I guess here's where he has to make the choice between apathy and actual emotions.

"What the hell ?!" I mumbled lowly as I observe two strange figures cross the road.

Since birth it seems, I've been cursed with near sighted vision which meant without my specs the world becomes blurry after a few feet. Need a bedtime story read, I'm your gal but you're on your own if there's an exit sign. It goes without saying that I usually can't trust my eyes and that I wouldn't trust my life with them. Still, there's no way I'm that far gone that I can't even see average shapes, I can't be blind to the point where I conjure up monsters that don't exist. That's schizophrenia not blindness and my mom already had me tested when I was a kid so I'm pretty sure I don't have it (even though it does run on her side of the family). Logic is screaming to my brain that my eyes are lying to me because people nor chickens look anything like the freaks that just crossed the road.

As my car begins to approach the spot where they crossed, I try (I really do) to cruise past the building they disappeared into and mind my own business. But that doesn't sound anything like me, I mean really when have I ever "minded my own business"? Please. Sure enough my body acts against the logical option on moving on and finding something fun to do that's not weird, once the idea's in my head the thought of crashing a party or hitting the club seem like a bore. I do that all the time.