Abstract Love

by Faedelaide

Do You Really Hate Yourself That Much?

I think the funniest part of this whole scenario is that, if I stayed quiet, if I didn't tell Rainfall anything, maybe things would've turned out better. But who can say for sure? I can't tell the future. I don't think anyone can tell the future, and if they can, I feel kinda bad for 'em. I wouldn't want the pressure of trying to make my future as bright as possible over my head constantly. I mean... I already do, but if I could see the future, I'd only be more likely to fuck it up, which is kinda ironic, right? You'd think if you could tell the future, it'd be easier to put your destiny into your own hands, but then, is it really in your own hands? Is the future of your own making, or are you doomed to repeat the actions of those who come after you?

...Sorry for the tangent. It's ironic that I'm thinking about the future now that I no longer have one. Or maybe I'm thinking of the past now. I don't know. Every word I speak is starting to sound more and more like nonsense and bullshit. It's like speaking a language translated five times over. All the words have lost their meaning. They're just empty, hollow sounds now. I'm just a madman talking to himself in an empty void as he loses himself more and more. How poetic.

I really hate poetry.

Now you might be thinking, "What do you mean Spiral? Things seem pretty good for you right now. You've got a good friend, a burgeoning art career, things are only looking up for you," and you'd be right. But hold that thought and throw it away, cuz once you get out of rock bottom, it's always possible to go back down.

I didn't go down super quickly. In fact, things were pretty damn good for a little while. In the week or two that followed my idea, Rainfall and I began brainstorming ideas. Her visions for the portrait were much more... elaborate than I expected. Now I had no problem with making a complex piece, especially when it meant I got to spend more time around Rainfall, but we were running on a pretty tight schedule. Eventually, Rainfall relented, and we settled on a simple portrait piece. We spent a good hour or two every day working on the piece after we both finished our shifts. I would've spent all night on it, but I needed her in order to finish my piece, and I wasn't gonna deprive her of much needed sleep. She seemed to think the same thing about me, but I was already pretty used to my shitty sleep schedule. She frowned when I said that, and it's only now that I realize just how much she really did care about me. Of course she cared about me. How could I have never noticed? Such a damn idiot.

Whatever. So I finish the portrait, bring it to the interview, and they absolutely love it! If they had any questions readied beforehand, I don't think they bothered to use them. The whole interview was about my piece, appropriately titled Monsoon Maiden, and I told them as much as I thought was necessary. As usual, I'd written out topics and jokes beforehand. I even practiced a few on Rainfall, but she laughed at my jokes all the same, so I wasn't too sure how funny my jokes actually were. Well apparently I needed to be more confident in myself, cuz the interviewers ate it up the whole time. I don't think that interview could've gone any better, and whaddya know, a week later, Monsoon Maiden Is on every art magazine in Canterlot. Hell, even a couple newspapers were talking about the overnight sensation that was Spiral Wave. Next thing I know, I'm the newest darling of the Canterlot art society.

Seizing my opportunity, I start selling all my old pieces. Naturally, investors and art connoisseurs want to get their hands on Spiral Wave's newest work as quickly as possible. Pieces start selling for hundreds at local auctions, then thousands, then tens of thousands. I finally do it. I've made it. I'm successful. I've made my dad proud. The tragedy of it all is, I always had, but it took me nearly thirty years to figure that out. How pathetic.

So I'm starting to do real good for myself. I keep working at... wherever I used to work at, mostly to keep Rainfall company. But then, something pops up. I get home from work one day, shivering like a newborn foal in the winter gale when suddenly, the apartment's looking a bit small for my tastes. I start wanting a house of my own, a place to display my works proudly and openly, not hide them in some dingy factory. Of course, it was a great idea, and one I could easily afford now, but there was one small problem...

It's late in the evening when she gets home. I'm staring at a book about... something... when I hear our old door creaking loudly, marking her arrival. She looks exhausted, and she knew it too, cuz she gives me one passing glance, a wave and a gentle smile, then slams her door closed. It takes all of two minutes for me to hear her start snoring away.

I keep sitting in the main room, staring blankly at the book before me. I stopped reading it a good while before she even got home, just staring at the nonsensible characters and icons scrawled upon the tome's dry, dusty pages. All the while, I can hear my heart pounding in my chest. It's that terror again. That fear of being a failure. But what am I afraid of now? I mean, I'm higher up than I've ever been right? Right, and that's the problem.

There's only one thing I could screw up now. How would I tell her I love her?

Comments

[Adler]

Hello there, I'm excited for new chapters!

I like that you introduced a kirin character. Rainfall is a sunshine!

I somehow identify a bit with Spiral Wave.

Also, I like the symmetry of the chapters.

Keep up the good work!