Sometimes he could clutch it in the palm of his large, supple hand, other times, he would have to pull it behind him in a wagon or on a sled in the winter. The handsome man was very handsome, but it did him no good because he had sadness.
The problem with sadness was that it was never the same from day to day. Some mornings, the handsome man would wake alone in his South Asian-themed apartment and sadness would weigh so much he could hardly lift himself out of his waterbed. He would be trapped for hours beneath the soft satin sheets and plush duvet. Other days, he would only think of it briefly while applying his aloe-extract facemask in the morning. These inconsistencies were what bothered him most about sadness. The constant adjustments of his well-to-do life were an irritation that only made sadness swell.
One spring day, the handsome man stood in the living room of his South Asian-themed apartment, peering out his 34th floor window through split bamboo Shanghai blinds into the harbour. From where he stood he could see the shimmer on the water, the red sails of anchored boats but he didn’t notice them. He stood there nibbling on the last bite of his vanilla soy protein bar, contemplating the benefits of low carb versus low protein diets. When he finished, the handsome man tossed the wrapper into the trash at his feet. 'It tasted so good,' he thought. Below, on the wharf near the pier, a boy stood, flying a green kite in the cool April air. The handsome man watched the green kite zig and zag against the blue-grey of the seawater and kept thinking.
He dated a woman once who kept her sadness in a sterling locket around her neck. She had said that the locket helped her forget it for a while, but that she would still open it sometimes when she was alone because she missed listening to the sounds it would make. Hers, she said, sounded like crumpling paper or the quick snapping sound that ice cubes make when dropped in warm water. The handsome man’s sadness didn’t make any noise. She had suggested he find a way to trap his sadness but he knew that his was too big and erratic to keep anywhere for long. Plus, his sadness was very round and smooth and would always slip away on him when he tried to get a hold on it. The girl had pretended to understand and he appreciated her lies. Later, he told her that it wasn't going to work out because she was the kind of girl that, while strolling with him on a date, other girls would throw evil eyes at. She was the kind of girl that would cause them to say things like, 'she isn't even that good looking! Why would such a handsome guy go for her.' He wanted someone who could compliment his handsomeness, not just his sadness. When he told her this, she scrambled from the apartment clutching the locket to her cheek, sadness leaking onto his hand-stitched oriental rug as she went.
The boy with the kite returned each day that spring and summer and each day the handsome man would watch him from high above in his South Asian-themed apartment as he moisturized his face and hands or flossed his teeth. Some day's he watched and sadness was almost forgotten. Other day's he cried and cried as he held his sadness like an umbrella above his head.
Last week, the boy brought a friend. She had a bright orange jacket and a dress that blew around in the same fashion as the kite. The handsome man was filing his nails as he watched, scraping his cuticles back with the file’s edge. That morning, he hardly felt sadness when he woke. It was only a pea in his pocket. But as he watched the boy and girl and the green kite all dancing together on the pier he felt sadness grow. It got so big he had to use both hands to hold it. It got so big it reminded him of the first time he ever felt it. It had felt like a wrecking ball.
The first time he ever felt sadness, the handsome man had been at a party in college. He had been drinking and was saying funny things like "...and prosperity only comes in jars for people with the intention of saving it for later...” people were laughing at him and he thought they thought he was funny. Later, at the end of the night, a pretty girl he was flirting with sat him on the couch and placed her hand on his knee. She had eyes like mirrors and she licked her lips often so that they were shiny and new all the time. He waited for her to say she loved him. Instead, she explained that she didn't like him in that way as she stood up to leave with Paul Henderson. The handsome man nearly split in half.
And so, crying at the weight of sadness held high above his head, the handsome man went to the balcony, stepping over his terracotta flowerpots and into the sunshine. The sadness gleamed in the sunlight, reflecting through the handsome man’s long lashes. He stepped to the edge and heaved it over the rail. The handsome man watched his sadness fall and fall and when it hit the black asphalt of the parking lot, the impact made his windows rattle. On the pier, the boy with the kite and the girl with the billowy dress turned, startled by the sound of exploding sadness. The handsome man saw them standing there, motionless as they looked up at him and then down to the ground where the sadness had crashed. The girl with the billowy dress gently put her hand inside the boy’s and whispered in his ear, just as the kite dipped in the wind, falling into the grey water behind them.
The end
jamie read - 2005
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