If You Want Something, Don't Ask For Nothing; If You Want Nothing, Don't Ask For Something

By Dr. Mullin

I hate winter.  It sucks.  In fact, the only thing I hate more than winter right now is my ex.  I suppose technically speaking she isn't my ex yet, but it has certainly felt that way for at least a month now.

When bad shit happens in the winter, it seems magnified, perpetuated by the barren bleakness I stare at out my window every morning when I wake up for work.

So when she called to tell me she was leaving me for some douchebag she met at a party, I knew exactly what was going to happen.  I was going to be spending a lot of time staring out that window. 

She told me to come here today, to the woods bordering the park near my house.  I knew why she picked this spot, but I couldn't understand the choice.  It's like she wants to rub it in, stamp it down deep into my memory like somebody crushing an ant and then grinding it into oblivion on the pavement with their heel.

Pleasant.

If it weren't for the occasion of my visit and the fact that I am permanently disposed to detest this stupid fucking season - and this little exercise definitely won't help - I might actually find my surroundings beautiful.

I might marvel at how the sunlight glints off the snow like oncoming headlights, or how my breath vaporizes into a little cloud the instant I exhale. 

Instead I see a driving hazard and the smoke from a hundred tiny musket shots.

"Hi, Alex."

I answered without turning around to face her.  "Can we make this quick?  You have no idea how much I don't want to be here right now."

"I know, I'm sorry.  I just wanted to talk to you in person, and -"

"So you chose the spot where I asked you out?"  I looked over my shoulder at her.  "Nice.  I'll keep this technique in mind the next time I want to brutally spit in the face of someone I used to love."

She got angry.  "Knock it off, will you?  You know this is for your own good." 

"What?"  I turned around.  I was shouting now, and my breaths more resembled shots from a cannon.  "Are you fucking kidding me with this?  Are you actually trying to spin this as a good thing for me?"

"Alex, you've basically hated me for weeks.  How could I keep putting you through this?"

I stared at her blankly for a second, then laughed.  "You can start by going back in time and not pulling this shit in the first place."

"You know I can't do that.  And in all honesty, I don't know that I would do it any differently.  I don't regret my decision at all."

I threw my hands up in frustration.  "Of course you fucking don't.  You're not the one getting totally screwed in this deal, are you?"

She narrowed her eyes at me.  "This is pretty much pointless, isn't it?"  She sighed.  "Well I'm sorry it ended up this way, and I do mean that.  Good luck."

She waited for a moment for me to respond, but I was too busy trying to think of something that would sufficiently hurt her to say anything.  She turned and left.  I watched her until she disappeared, then turned and walked further into the woods.

The snow crunching under my shoes reminded me of popcorn, or Styrofoam.  Maybe a combination of both.  As I wavered mechanically through the trees I actually began to admire the silence around me.

I stopped and it was complete.  Not a sound besides the branches groaning like an arthritic old man as the wind brushed by them.

I sat down right where I was, and immediately the cold wetness of the snow bled through my jeans.  I didn't care.  I lay back and put my hands behind my head, watching the musket shots trail off into the sky.

This was my kind of season after all.

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Listening to: A Genius mix started by
The Arcade Fire, Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)