Music

Her habits…

- The strange thing with habits is that they take you for granted. Stick to you like a leach. Irritating, stubborn, painful, and full of excuses.

…were so irritating. She would put on her headphones as soon as I entered. It started after we got married. But that’s just one of the smaller mistakes we made together; marriage. The larger…let’s not. In her room, sitting at her desk, writing as always. Her headphones. That was her habit.

Mine. It was different. I had my headphones on, whether she be there or not. Oh! The sweet taste of music. Food or no food. Music I had to have. It put in more energy in me then all the food in the world would ever. And then of course the night calls. But I told her about it even before we started going out. How was it my fault, if I was a super hero! Can you blame me? I was born with special powers, and I needed music to sustain them. All the wretched criminals had run off: Yes! I was good at my work. But…

…she always thought it was wrong. I shouldn’t have been a hero to the world. She wanted me for herself. Her hero.

How it happens…

…we always realize things way too late. I should have taken them off at home. Even if we didn’t have something to talk about, at least I should have held her hand and sat quietly. That would have done much good as well. But habit! Parasites! They make you blind. Blind-er then love.

They gave me the letter smeared with blood.

“You were my perfect hero, fate made our lives imperfect.

Love always.

Two drops of whiskey

One touch of wine.”

Why my woman, even Curt Cobain had a better reason to die for, stupid as it might have been.

Habits! Habits! Habits!

Shucks! Frustrating habits!

- Love the worst of habits,

loss the final conclusion.

Super hero or no superhero!