Trust me; I'm as uncomfortable as you're feeling in this misery of a whirlpool they call life. I want to be grateful, appreciative, but I'm just not feeling the magic anymore.
“That’s just the thing though, isn’t it?” Jason queried throwing aside an empty beer can. “We’re all swallowed up in this world of trying to make the best of and for ourselves, but no matter what, we’re still stuck back in the same spot as before.”
Simon raised an eyebrow, looked at him, and then glanced towards the half a dozen of beer cans left scattered on the floor near where Jason sat, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to show his disbelief of the situation.
“I know, I know,” Jason half hiccupped, “I’m letting myself go a bit –“
“Try a Lot.”
“Okay, Okay, a lot, but I’ll be back on track soon.”
“You said that last week, and the week before. The lads are worried about you man, you’re just drinking everything away, soaking yourself in alcoholic beverages in an attempt to relieve the pain, but you’re just ebbing away.”
“That’s not true, I’m just…” Simon watched him stand up and almost topple over, in a drastic attempt to cover this up, Jason flumped back down on to the brown sofa. “I’m just…” His eyebrows folded into a concentrated expression, he quickly glanced to the T.V. “There’s a game on, see,” he half shouted pointing towards the T.V. “Surely that allows a man to be able to have a drink or few?”
“That’s more than a few mate, don’t you think I ain’t seen the pile you have in the kitchen, because I have,” his tone was disapproving, but Jason didn’t appear to pick up on it.
“See,” Jason declared, raising his arms. “You agree with me!” he accused prodding his mate in the chest, and laughing.
“No mate, I really don’t. In fact, I think you should turn off the T.V and stop using the game as an excuse to get off your face, and I think you should stop moping about on your fucking arse all day,” Simon reached for the remote, stood up, and turned the T.V off.
Jason’s face contorted into a twist of horror.
“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?! We were just about to score!” Jason yelled.
“I’m doing you a favour; you can’t waste your life like this man! All you do is sit around and moan about your life! You’ve lost your job, you’ve stopped working out. Dude, the only person holding you back from moving on is you! And I’m not going to sit around and watch it happen to my mate!” His voice was concerned but aggravated at the same time.Unfortunately, Jason only acknowledged the aggravation.
“I’M letting it happen?” He asked, raising himself to Simon’s level. “How the fuck would you know what I’m going through?” He practically snarled into his mate’s face.
“Do you know what it’s like to have your heart fucking stabbed? The knife to be twisted…” through an outrage of desperation he pulled at his own hair. “She walked out on me! She just left! But of course you wouldn’t understand that would you?!” Simon pulled back from the stench of Stella Artois oozing from Jason’s breathe.
“Of course you wouldn’t, you…” Jason raised his arms as if letting go of a heavy weight. “You- You’re perfectly happy with your little farce of an engagement with Shanise!”
“A Farce? Listen mate, I love that woman, there’s nothing fake about it, alright?” his tone was on the defensive now, his posture changing to show a hint of dominance.
“Yeah, and what will you do when she leaves you?” Jason was almost mocking.
“She’s not going to.” His surety knocked Jason back a few steps.
“Yeah, well mine did,” he hissed, “and you have no idea what it feels like!”
“Well maybe if you weren’t fucking other girls behind her back, then she’d still be here!” At this statement, Jason stepped even further back, his face straining, a soft sign of his pain reflecting in his eyes, the veins bumping out on his head.
“That’s unfair,” Jason almost whispered. There was a silence for a few moments, but then Jason’s anger uprooted. “I should have known,” he continued breathing heavily, “known you’d have taken her side, with you being with her sister. You can’t trust any fucker in this world. Your missus is probably gonna turn out the same as her you know.”
“I’m not gonna stand here and let you insult my fiancé, Jase, you’re my mate, now don’t fucking get on my wrong side, we went to High School remember, you owe me some loyalty. And after all I’ve done for you, some fucking respect too.” His tone was surprisingly calm.
“I owe you nothing! You won’t even take my side!”
Simon half laughed. “This isn’t about taking sides! You’re the one that did wrong, not her! You’re not nineteen anymore man, or even in your early twenties, you’re twenty six, it’s about time you stopped fooling around. If you loved her, really loved her, you wouldn’t have done what you did in the first place, and you’d accept that you were in the wrong.”
“I have no idea what the fuck you just said.”
“That’s because you’re only thinking of you,” his phone started to vibrate in his pocket; this reminded him of the meeting he was expected to attend. “I’ve got to go.”
“Where?”
“Some place, get yourself sorted.” He pointed towards the beer cans. “And clean up whilst you’re at it.”
“Oh, you’re going to HER aren’t you? What don’t you understand about her leaving me?”
“Stop being so fucking dramatic.” Scowling Simon started to walk towards the front door of the house, unaware of Jason’s unsteady temper behind him.
“Fine! Just go to that slut, and why don’t you just go home to that slut of a fiancé of yours too!”
Refusing to turn around in fear of hitting his own best mate, Simon just walked onwards. Opening the door, he took a step out, and turned to look at the guy he’d managed to call his best friend for at least a decade, trying hard not to concentrate on the almost delirious glare he possessed.
“Sort yourself out man. Before it’s too late,” he warned, with half a smile he began to close the door. But heard Jason shout something along the lines of “fucking wanker”, and decided to shout back; “Sort yourself out!”
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