Fucked Up and Got Zippered In

Derick was waiting. always waiting. waiting for love. waiting for someone to notice him. waiting for something to happen. he wasn't active, didn't have his own principals or timing or morals, he was merely another human sucking in the goddamn air filtered through the vents. short handed poetry wouldn't be good enough this time. Derick would wait everyday, for someone to love him. he thought to himself that this might of branched off of the fact that his father never gave him any recognition and his mother usually passed them over. he felt a longing inside for something that he knew could only be filled by love for another human. He met one early on and they both fell madly in love. Derick was a sucker for women, they could easily be bad to him, manipulate him, he was not strong in any fashion. They would come and leave just as quick as they fell into his life. and then Derick would regress back into waiting.

He fell hard one day and then he fell even worse the next year. After all of this time, spent maintaining a good heart and a great outlook he was left broken again. deserted, lonely, desolate and the days blended into harsher nights. he wrote fast and mean then. Derick was a sensible enough kid, but his heart was just to goddamn big and there were too many horrible people around him. He set himself up for pain, and he liked it. But that was not a way to progress, and he could see himself in the mirror slowly vanishing like Marty in Back to the Future. 

Time was cut out and a space for that time was cut out. It was time to grow up.

When he reached his peak, his brain operating on all circuits firing go and body pistons pumping blood octane through his damn heart fueled by the rage in the alcohol and caffeine, his uttermost top tilting operating level... she came to him then. And their nights were faster, hotter, and stickier than anything he had before. 

She stayed awhile, and then had to leave again.

As she was gone, he drove the city hunting down the best turkey sandwich with cranberry sauce he could get his paws on. stopped at a red light, car idling roughly and cigarette smoke billowing out of his nostrils, the thought occurred to him as he starred at the peeling skin on his finger. 

he spent the majority of his adulthood waiting for a mediocre person to give him a feeling of necessity. When they arrived it was a great time, but they always left, and he would go back to the feeling of loneliness and depression as he waited for the next one to come around.

But now when someone arrived it was a constant rush and the days passed fast and nights even faster. It was a blur after blur and emotionally draining (in a good way). This was something that he could really grab a hold of and truly appreciate the value of the situation. 

now instead of waiting for someone to spend time with him...

He was waiting for someone to leave so he could spend time with himself.

and that

is what it was like to be Derick.

without blinders