For a brief moment in time, she regarded me as a machine. Regardless of my energy levels, I could do anything. I recharge my battery just enough for the following day. Shine my armor, polish my helmet, indeed I'm ready to play.
Or as the case may be, I'm always ready to get to work. I do what I have to do, even if my body and bones hurt. I fight through the pain because I have to, can't rely on anyone else but me. I perform my job with relative ease, some might even say impressively.
I would battle through my day, with the utmost detail and precision. All before the sun comes up, confident with not an ounce of indecision. Though I tend to work alone and get along all by myself, I choose to include her in my day, and put my introversion on the shelf.
As part of each other's day, we would talk like we were right next to each other. Asking questions, always learning, and looking for new things to discover. Some questions were simple, while other questions made us think. I wanted to get to know her and into that rabbit hole I would sink.
Nothing was out of limits, nothing out of bounds. The conversation flowed naturally. Indeed, we were grateful for the friendship we had found. As far as people go, she proved to be better than most. What we had built was what I considered to be intimate and very close.
She said that she'd be there for me and I want to say that I assured her of the same. I found myself strangely attracted to her, much like a freezing bum would be to a burning flame. I saw her as a confidant, as someone to whom I could openly speak. Sure, I'm different than most, but I don't think she ever considered me to be some kind of freak.
She was a pleasant distraction, one that the machine truly enjoyed. Then suddenly and without warning, that sweet voice I thought I knew had inexplicably become annoyed. I couldn't fathom where we had gone wrong, though I was determined to get to the cause. I know that I'm not perfect and I openly acknowledge my many flaws.
She said I humiliated her and made her feel less than my special person. I tried my damnedest to talk to her, but with concerns that things could worsen. I tried to plead my case and attempt to show her where I was coming from. But in the end, those efforts had failed and I was left all alone and feeling quite dumb.
Then she accused me of being upset with her, to where my words that once flowed so freely had suddenly stopped. The machine was losing power and hope. The energy in its battery started to drop. She told me that she cared for me, but she wasn't behaving like she did. A minute ago, I was on top of the world. In a moment of blindness, I never realized just how far I had actually slid.
There was never any anger in me, but it was not to be for me to plead my case. She relegated me to being a mute and in some way, she put me in my place. She no longer wanted to hear me or whatever I had to say. She made the decision that it was no longer worth talking to me, like she had done every day.
The Tin Man had a heart and as it turns out, this broken machine does too. My friend decided that distancing herself from the machine was, in the end, the best thing for her to do. Without her, the machine's body continues to move, just as its always done. It just does so with aimless steps now and zero inclination to want to run.
As a man, I press forward and the machine continues to roll. I never meant to hurt her, but apparently my words have taken a toll. I made her feel a pain, beyond my understanding, and hurt on a whole different level. Without realizing it and in no time at all, I went from a brilliant machine to the second coming of the devil.
Loading comments...