He was hanging out with his artist friends who traveled all over the United States and would only be in town that weekend.
She lived near the mall where the artists were the stars of the art fair. He had always told her how being with the artists and their masterpieces of imagination and paint made him happy.
She wanted to hang out with the artists too.
He was 49 years old, over weight and going bald. She was a bit older but her voice had the sweet sound of youth and his heart melted when he heard her speak.
She walked into the art space where his artists friends were and he was glad to see her.
He went with her to eat lunch with her but found he wasn't hungry. His stomach was twisted in knots. Something was wrong but he didn't know what it was.
"James asked me if I was your sweetheart."
"Yes, I am your sweetheart."
She said without hesitation as his stomach twisted in pain. Her voice was sweet as honey but something was wrong. He would talk about his grand daughter, she was the safest of all subjects.
He thought he told a funny story about his grand daughter's chubby legs and how she learned to stand because of her jealousy for her cousin who was getting a lot of attention on Christmas day.
She heard a negative emotion and a negative body image projected on a baby by her Grand Father.
They went back to the art space and she told him how terrible his words were.
The love he had for her as a woman drained away as they argued in front of his artist friends.
She left and he sat behind the table and tried to sell T-Shirts, posters, postcards and storybooks.
The next day she came back and said she was sorry.
"You must hate me."
"I don't hate anyone."
"That's not the same as saying you love me."
He wish he could lie. Lying came so easy for him just a few months ago and now he wanted to do nothing but tell the truth no matter how painful it was. He decided he would say nothing.
"I'll come back later."
She turned and walked into the art fair. He sat depressed wishing someone, anyone would get him. Why couldn't he find a woman who knew what he was all about?
At the end of night she came back and they broke up.
As she drove away he thought how wonderful she was in so many ways.
She was such a sweet woman and she had been hurt by so many men in her life. Her heart was broken so many times. He asked himself why he had to be another heart breaker?
2 comments:
Just read heartbreaker. Once I start I cant change my focus until Ive read right through to the end. Sad this one. Is the image painted, or a photo of broken shards of glass/tiles and a heart bead? Whatever it is, I think it has great emotion but cool to go with the story.
The 'He' in Heart Breaker was of course me and telling this story in a fair and gentle way was my goal.
The image is an optical effect that can only be created using a flatbed scanner. The original art is very crude and was created to see if I could fool the eye of the scanner.
The image is made out of shards of stained glass, silicone rubber, color pencil and color markers on cheap card stock.
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