Entry tags:
South Mark Tales: 01
A vignette.
A guy that's like Cartman in that he owns every situation he's in. He has a very active imagination and believes in living his life the way he wants to.
"How can you live like that?" Guy asked.
Carmen shrugged. "How can *you* live like *that*? You spend every single day of your life trapped in your little rut and you drive yourself crazy trying to keep to this impossible ideal. Sometimes I worry if you're going to forget how to breathe."
"What do you mean?" Guy didn't want to feel like this. Trapped in this moment where he'd thought he was staging a mini-intervention for a friend, except everything had been flipped around on him. *He* was the one being needled apart and he kind of wished he could wind time; then he could be somewhere far away from this moment and it could just be one more awful memory.
Carmen crossed to the refrigerator, and Guy had to twist his body around to watch his progress into the kitchen. He brought his legs up on the couch, lying straight for a moment, then pulling his knees up against his chest with a grimace. He hugged his arms tight around himself and fought his urge to cry. He didn't need this to be happening right now, not after he'd had such a horrible week. But he knew it was coming; he'd seen the half-malicious glint in Carmen's eyes.
"Do you want one of these?" Carmen held up two Red Bulls. Guy shook his head, and one went back into the door.
Carmen slammed the fridge shut, and Guy hid a wince. If that door got broke, he was going to be blowing his grocery money on a new refrigerator. He didn't say anything though, not wanting to get that Look from Carmen; anyone else, but not Carmen.
"Look, man, we're all getting very concerned about you." Carmen leaned his hip against the counter and popped the tab on the Red Bull. "You've been so stressed out and unhappy lately. It's making people uncomfortable."
Guy looked down at his hands. His cheeks burned with embarrassment. "What do you mean?"
Carmen sighed. "I'm not trying to be an asshole, I promise. You've been depressed, I can tell. It's not hard to see that you're unhappy, but you won't ever say anything about it. You hold your feelings so tight inside all the time ... Dude, it's time to open up. Even if you don't want to talk to *me*--God knows I wouldn't choose me if I wasn't me--but you need to talk to someone. You need to find a friend or a family member or even a priest, just someone that you can talk to."
"A priest," Guy snorted.
"Yeah, a priest, a preacher, a rabbi," Carmen said, his hand jerking through the air, "just someone you can look at and comfortably see opening up to. Man, you don't have to be religious to need help, and that's what they're there for." Shrug. "They're there to do good in the world and help people. Some of them are assholes, most of them aren't, you just gotta look around for a non-judgy, helping ear. And face it, most people that seriously go into church service do it because they want to help other human beings, so you're more likely to find someone that's not too over the top. You just gotta find someone you can talk to. You don't have to use your whole name and you don't have to tell them who you are. And if it doesn't work out, just don't go to that one again. It's not like they're going to stone you for not converting after a confessional experience."
Guy gave a nod at Carmen's expectant look. If he didn't do anything, Carmen would keep talking, trying to explain things. Before Carmen, Guy hadn't understood what belaboring a point meant; sometimes he wished he could go back to that state of ignorance.
"I info dump on my doctor all the time, and what's he going to do? I pay him money to poke around my hot bod. He should be paying me." Carmen chuckled and gestured at himself with his free hand. "Seriously, have you looked at me lately? Everyone wants to get a piece of me. My diet and exercise regime have really been working at."
Guy huffed a laugh. If there was one thing Carmen was good at, it was smoothing the awkward out of even the most awkward of situations. "Yeah, yeah. You're practically svelte."
"Damn right." Carmen pushed off from the counter. "Now, are you ready to get your ass whooped at video games?"
*Well, that wasn't too bad,* Guy thought. "You wish, asshole," he said, giving the finger. To which Carmen laughed, as completely carefree as ever.
And Guy felt some of the weight lift.
A guy that's like Cartman in that he owns every situation he's in. He has a very active imagination and believes in living his life the way he wants to.
"How can you live like that?" Guy asked.
Carmen shrugged. "How can *you* live like *that*? You spend every single day of your life trapped in your little rut and you drive yourself crazy trying to keep to this impossible ideal. Sometimes I worry if you're going to forget how to breathe."
"What do you mean?" Guy didn't want to feel like this. Trapped in this moment where he'd thought he was staging a mini-intervention for a friend, except everything had been flipped around on him. *He* was the one being needled apart and he kind of wished he could wind time; then he could be somewhere far away from this moment and it could just be one more awful memory.
Carmen crossed to the refrigerator, and Guy had to twist his body around to watch his progress into the kitchen. He brought his legs up on the couch, lying straight for a moment, then pulling his knees up against his chest with a grimace. He hugged his arms tight around himself and fought his urge to cry. He didn't need this to be happening right now, not after he'd had such a horrible week. But he knew it was coming; he'd seen the half-malicious glint in Carmen's eyes.
"Do you want one of these?" Carmen held up two Red Bulls. Guy shook his head, and one went back into the door.
Carmen slammed the fridge shut, and Guy hid a wince. If that door got broke, he was going to be blowing his grocery money on a new refrigerator. He didn't say anything though, not wanting to get that Look from Carmen; anyone else, but not Carmen.
"Look, man, we're all getting very concerned about you." Carmen leaned his hip against the counter and popped the tab on the Red Bull. "You've been so stressed out and unhappy lately. It's making people uncomfortable."
Guy looked down at his hands. His cheeks burned with embarrassment. "What do you mean?"
Carmen sighed. "I'm not trying to be an asshole, I promise. You've been depressed, I can tell. It's not hard to see that you're unhappy, but you won't ever say anything about it. You hold your feelings so tight inside all the time ... Dude, it's time to open up. Even if you don't want to talk to *me*--God knows I wouldn't choose me if I wasn't me--but you need to talk to someone. You need to find a friend or a family member or even a priest, just someone that you can talk to."
"A priest," Guy snorted.
"Yeah, a priest, a preacher, a rabbi," Carmen said, his hand jerking through the air, "just someone you can look at and comfortably see opening up to. Man, you don't have to be religious to need help, and that's what they're there for." Shrug. "They're there to do good in the world and help people. Some of them are assholes, most of them aren't, you just gotta look around for a non-judgy, helping ear. And face it, most people that seriously go into church service do it because they want to help other human beings, so you're more likely to find someone that's not too over the top. You just gotta find someone you can talk to. You don't have to use your whole name and you don't have to tell them who you are. And if it doesn't work out, just don't go to that one again. It's not like they're going to stone you for not converting after a confessional experience."
Guy gave a nod at Carmen's expectant look. If he didn't do anything, Carmen would keep talking, trying to explain things. Before Carmen, Guy hadn't understood what belaboring a point meant; sometimes he wished he could go back to that state of ignorance.
"I info dump on my doctor all the time, and what's he going to do? I pay him money to poke around my hot bod. He should be paying me." Carmen chuckled and gestured at himself with his free hand. "Seriously, have you looked at me lately? Everyone wants to get a piece of me. My diet and exercise regime have really been working at."
Guy huffed a laugh. If there was one thing Carmen was good at, it was smoothing the awkward out of even the most awkward of situations. "Yeah, yeah. You're practically svelte."
"Damn right." Carmen pushed off from the counter. "Now, are you ready to get your ass whooped at video games?"
*Well, that wasn't too bad,* Guy thought. "You wish, asshole," he said, giving the finger. To which Carmen laughed, as completely carefree as ever.
And Guy felt some of the weight lift.
