I admit it. I was in love with Viola, and I had been for nearly a year. I guess I shouldn’t talk about it in the past tense, because even though she’s gone, my feelings haven’t gone away with her. I don’t know what it was about her that made me so nervous that I couldn’t ask her out. Sure, she was sort of seeing Julius for awhile, I think, but not all the time. I had plenty of opportunities to take my shot, but I always chickened out. I’m not some nerd who stares at girls from afar, and wants what he can’t have, though. I’ve dated lots of girls, and I’ve never had a problem carrying a conversation. I guess that’s why it’s meant so much to me for so long. The fact that she could make me trip over myself every time she appeared only made me want her more. Yes, there were many girls before her, but none of them meant anything. She was the only one for me, and I’ll never know whether she could have ever felt the same way. That’s right, I’m not delusional enough to think she automatically saw me as I did her. I barely talked to her, so I never had much of a chance to gauge her thoughts. I wish I had said something to her, and not just out of some fantasy for what we could have been. If we had become friends, at the very least, I might have been at the river bank that day. I might have been able to stop what happened to her. I can’t sleep most nights. I keep replaying this alternate reality in my head where things turned out differently, just because I was around. I’m not the hero of the story, but I am a witness, and that’s enough to save her life, and Gertrude’s memories. I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to talk to her now. I can’t help Viola anymore, but maybe I can help Gertrude. Maybe some good can come out of this horrible time in all our lives. You know what, I’ve decided. I’m not going to waste time like I did before. I’m going to go over to the Feldt house right now, and see how she’s doing. Sorry to cut this interview short, and sorry it probably wasn’t very helpful. I hope you catch the real killer, or whatever it is you’re trying to do. Thanks!
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Friday, January 11, 2019
Microstory 1015: Fernando
Labels:
anxiety
,
date
,
death
,
doctor
,
friends
,
helpful
,
house
,
killing
,
love
,
memories
,
microfiction
,
microstory
,
nerves
,
perspective
,
sexuality
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