Rue The Night (1 Viewer)

[rockaction]

Go ahead. Rue the night that any notion of eternal lifeblood on earth was terminated in my mind. That night you laughed at the gift I bought you and called it "scary." It was a stupid teddy bear. Just say "nice," and never look at it again. It's common courtesy. I also bought you whiskey. "That's more like it," you bellowed. Typical. You then went to flail around downtown and almost hook up with anything that walked. That was your way. Then you wanted to be married later that year. I wonder, since we never talked in the twenty-five years since we broke up (I left you for another girl) what you must think about when you think about me. I know you do. I also know you've got a family, but I can't help but think it would set you back years just to see me, looking younger than forty-seven but a bit of a shambles for a backstory, former alcoholic addict not really caring about anything or having responsibilities. I only ever think of you in passing, and it's always a miserable memory. Something where you just can't act right or just said the wrong thing or just didn't want to go somewhere and how in your darkest of hours you could swear that these people all hate you...and psst! They do. And you deserve every moment of it, you liar. Rue the night.

Anyone else?

 

[rockaction]

A better one:

Go ahead. Rue the night that you left me, home on fall break, to be with your friends and go to the movies. A simple, "I'm going with friends to the movies" would have sufficed. Instead, you chose to tell me that we were going to the movies. I sat, all night, waiting. I was a freshman then, nineteen years old and we'd dated for two years. I'd gone away to school and tried to reach you to no avail. That night in question? I'd wait all night and finally walk over to your house whereupon you'd finally get the courage to address me and break it off.

You decided to date a charged felon who was on the run from the law. He'd later serve four years time, but you'd call me over and bring it up to me, having broken up with me for an international drug dealer. He had fled to Colombia, of all places. Nice territory. He was gone and you were looking for someone to spend some normal time with. Your place was bugged all around and you were checking the lamps at the apartment you shared. You would have a child by him, which I'm sure you don't regret. What you might regret is the letter you sent me while dating the aforementioned awfulness that was her. Would I consider getting back together with you? With a child not my own? Could I care for you as I once had? 

Simple answer: No. Rue the night. 

 

[rockaction]

Bad string of choices. Then two fine ones to set me down a path to what normal women are like.

But tonight? Oof. Rue the others. 

 

[Mrs. Rannous]

What ever you're having, I'll have two.

 

[rockaction]

What ever you're having, I'll have two.

Dos? Sure, c'mon in. Water's fine. Popped into my head because "Already Gone" by the Eagles was queued up in my YouTube. Don't ask why. Felt like it deserved written treatment. So absurd.

 

[Mrs. Rannous]

I have no idea what this is all about.  Please explain.  Do I need to go to my happy place?

 

[rockaction]

I have no idea what this is all about.  Please explain.  Do I need to go to my happy place?

Oh, Mrs. R., you don't need a happy place. No. It's about my ex-girlfriends. Two of whom the stories are about. They're real people, real stories. I had an interesting life as a high schooler and young adult. I was thrown into the fire with drug dealers, babies, and then debutantes. Colossally awful mix. 

I was just wondering if anybody had any good ones they wanted to get off of their chest. 

 

[Mrs. Rannous]

I guess I was just boring and normal, whatever that is.  A couple of my friends had some unwonderful experiences, including getting dumped on Valentine's Day.  What schmuck does that?

 

[Encyclopedia Brown]

Rue was an excellent Golden Girl.