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It's A Long December, And I'm Sorry For Us


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I am trying something different from my endless video game stories in the adult section. This is a true story. Yet, the side you get is how I remember it. As the name suggests, it discusses a significant failure that happened one December. Speaking of names, they have been changed to protect people's privacy. 

It's A Long December, And I'm Sorry For Us:

"If you are aware of a state which you call 'is', or 'reality', or 'life', this implies another state called 'isn't', or 'illusion', or 'unreality', or 'nothingness', or 'death'. There it is. You can't have one without the other. And so as to make life poignant, it's always going to come to an end. That is exactly, don't you see, what makes it lively. Liveliness is change, it's motion. So, you see, you're always at the place where you always are. And you think to yourself, wowee! A little further on, and we will get there. I hope we don't go so far down, so that we lose what we already have." 

"But that is built into every creature's situation, no matter how high, no matter how low. So in this sense, all places are the same place. And the only time you ever notice any difference is in the moment of transition. When you go up a bit, you gain, when you go down a bit you feel disappointed, gloomy, lost. You can go all the way down to death, and somehow there seems to be a difficulty in getting all the way up. Death seems so final. Nothingness seems so very, very, irrevocable and permanent. But then if it is, what about the nothingness that was before you started. On the contrary, it takes nothing to have something, 'cause you wouldn't know what something was without nothing. You wouldn't be able to see anything, unless there were nothing behind your eyes. The most real state is the state of nothing. That's what it's going to all come to."

-- Alan Watts 

"Nxght-choo... Nxght-choo... Ugh" 

"Bless you! Are you good? You've been sneezing a lot through this call." I asked with concern. "I don't think I've heard you sneeze before, let alone... Wait... Let me check my notes here... Seven times"

"you're keeping notes about how many times I sneeze? I don't know if that's cute as hell or fucking possessed?" 

"Speaking of cute, you sneeze like a cute chipmunk." 

"Cute and chipmunks don't go together. Disney sold you a fucking lie, Daniel. Chipmunks are evil beings doing the devil's work. But you are not wrong about my sneeze. It's so fucking girly. You sound huffy. Where are you?"

"I'm at the gym. I don't have enough money for dinner tonight, so I guess I'm just trying to outrun my hunger."

"Yeah, because that makes sense. Nxght-choo... Nxght-choo. Ugh, I think Zelda gave me a cold. Fucking kids, right?"

"I wouldn't know. But, Lana, you can't call me out for being reckless when you are sick."

"Damn, Daniel. It doesn't work like that. I just have a cold. You may work out to death."

"I'd regret nothing!!!"

"Why do I feel truer last words have never been spoken?"

"Is Corey home tonight to take care of you?"

"Naw, he's on shift, and then I imagine he'll drink until the 40 is done."

"Well, get some rest."

"Um, have you met my daughter? She doesn't let Mommy sleep when shes healthy."

"Have you met her mother?... Oh... Wait... That's you. Lana, meet Lana. She doesn't sleep... Like ever." 

"Shut the fuck up... Nxght-choo... Nxght-coo. Ugh... I've got to go. Zelda wants dinner. And you can't starve the princess.

"Otherwise, you end up in the Twilight Realm. I remember." 

"You better eat! Otherwise, you are joining me there."

"Gladly, princess."

"Oh, shut the fuck up. Yes, Zel, Mommy is coming! Goodbye, Daniel."

There it is, the hang-up. Fuck, I've always hated the hang-up. Lana is the only part of home I've ever wanted to hang onto. Every time she hangs up, I wonder if it's for the last time. She doesn't have the best track record with calling back, or answering when I do.

So here it is. I'm Daniel Miles. I'm pretty unremarkable. Even my dear Nan is always saying i'm just an unsalted soda cracker. Most only care for me when they're sick. Yet, someday I'm going to be someone's favourite. 

I thought that someone was Lana Bates. We met in my Grade 12 year. She had a class project with my little brother that brought her to our house for several months.

She was my idea of a dream girl. A mousy "scene queen" with a Zelda tattoo on her back and every Chi  odos song stuck on repeat in her head. But we somehow even understood each other regarding the things we didn't share incommonn. For me, that was journalism. For her, that was being the product of male desire... And a fair amount of female desire as well.

I watched as a lineup of both came and went. I wanted to make my move. But I was about to make another kind of move entirely. I was off to our capital city to attend a large journalism school. Three months later, she was pregnant. 

Now back to the present. It's five years since out paths forked. I'm still in the big city. I'm working a shitty copy job at a paper that has billionaire money. But do you think I see any of that?

Lana has a daughter. In case you haven't guessed, she named her after the princess. Her husband works the night shift at a meat packer. He pays the bills, and drinks away the rest of his money. 

Aside from a couple " just one nights" at my shitty East End studio apartment, we've never actually had something you could call a thing. Simply put, it's always been nothing I thought would be something. So much so that I was willing to be a subject to infidelity. But you can't see something unless you have nothing behind the eyes, right?

I always thought I would get there. I didn't think I would lose everything I had. But in the moment he puts down his bet, the gambler never does. Even when he's sure the house is against him.

If you're still here, then this is the story of how a single decision made on a cold December afternoon caused me to fold. But it's also a story about how I was dealt a different hand.

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