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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1371938-Too-Late
by wylann
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Drama · #1371938
Nothing can be changed, nothing can be predicted. In the end, we are all simply too late.
Too Late


         “Time is a figment of your imagination… Don’t put your trust in the ticking clock; it will only let you down.”

         Marcellus had never appreciated the truth of the simple statement given to him generously from an even simpler man.  He hadn’t actually known if the old man, a stranger, had been speaking to him.  However, Marcellus had been quite near him at the time, and so he had half listened to his words.  They’d been spoken with such force and brutal honesty – the kind of words only the most oblivious could walk by without retaining.

The day he’d heard the statement hadn’t been special in any way.  In fact, Marcellus couldn’t even remember it.  Rain, snow, sun; none would appear to him as he tried to recollect his surroundings.  The words themselves had but barely stuck to his memory, like the last bit of peanut butter to the roof of his mouth.  The moron had spent years with it trapped in his subconscious, and when he finally called it to memory, when he finally allowed it to grace him with its presence, it was too late to head the counsel.

         In all the disorder, his mind’s screamed insults and his body’s half-sobs half-punches, Marcellus found himself disconnecting – from his body, and even his reasoning mind.  It was as though none of it had happened, as though his dreams hadn’t been stolen away from him.  In the new world Marcellus created for himself, his life had gone differently; he’d reached the top, he’d been treated fairly, things had gone as planned.  But he couldn’t replace his memories, and real life was slowly sinking into him.

         Marcellus had always believed his life was on the edge of perfect.  He had no problems, no troubles – for the most part - but there would always be one more step to the latter.  One more promotion, one more date; there was always one more day to wait.  That night was supposed to be the final step.  Finally, he was to live in perfection.  But fate had other plans and Marcellus let its harsh wind blow him about like a rag doll.

         After school had really been when his troubles began.  The beginning of the end.  Marcellus had believed things had been going wonderfully.  Fresh from college and a job lined up already.  The job lined up already.  But fate, the crafty little devil, was capable of dressing even the worst sins as sweet, sweet candy.  Come on, give it a taste, it’s to die for.

         The job had changed quickly in Marcellus’s mind.  No longer the dream, but merely a stepping stone on his way to bigger things.  Why take home the first fish caught when there was always a bigger one swimming about?  Marcellus now had the answer to the rhetorical question, but as the young, innocent boy he’d once been, the true answer had been out of his grasp.  A ghost in the wind that he didn’t feel like chasing.

         And so Marcellus had accepted fate’s challenge, had continued up the ladder ignoring all the rest stops.  He’d stepped over many people on his way up, but managed to find one who could keep up to him.

         Adelynn had been everything he’d been looking for.  Young, smart, competitive, and not looking to settle down – the perfect woman.  She didn’t scare off at his achievements and goals, didn’t nag him when he said the wrong thing, never bored him with idle gossip, and actually seemed to enjoy business talk.  The perfect date for dinner with the boss, she was never fazed and always made intellectual conversation.  However, Adelynn was not as patient as Marcellus had thought.  Patience was a virtue and Adelynn didn’t have many of those.

         The first year of their relationship had been splendid.  There had been no serious commitment – everything was for fun.  Marcellus spent his days in the office, working on the latest projects, and his nights with Adelynn, letting loose.  Whenever Marcellus had to leave town for business, Adelynn would join him.  She would have been his shadow if he’d asked; oh, the depths of love.

         Adelynn’s love had caused all the troubles in their relationship, as far as Marcellus was concerned.  Though, in her opinion, it was his fear of love that had undone them.

         Around a year after their relationship began, Adelynn asked to move in with him.  Marcellus had been struck by the request.  Adelynn nearly lived with him at the time, though Marcellus did keep to himself the odd night – to remind her he’d never actually invited her to stay permanently.  It seemed Adelynn had become privy to his plan and had one of her own.

         In the beginning Marcellus had tried to laugh the notion off, but Adelynn wouldn’t have it.  It was during their first real fight that Marcellus learned that Adelynn may be intelligent, but she said the most idiotic things when she was upset.

         “You’re such an ass, Marcellus,” she screamed at the man’s sober exterior.  “You know, you’re obsessed with your job.  You always bring your work home with you.  Why don’t you start fucking it, because you’re sure as hell never fucking me again!”

         With such a flare for the dramatics, Marcellus had thought it was for the best as he watched his angry lover stalk off, the loathing radiating from her body, heating the room beyond tolerable temperatures.  It wasn’t as though Adelynn was irreplaceable.  Marcellus had never had trouble with women; he’d surely find some other woman to replace Adelynn with.

         And he had, the next night at a quaint little bar he’d gone to after work.  She was what he was looking for – at least, what he told himself he wanted.  Pretty, outgoing, fun, a terrible flirt who would most definitely not ask to move in with him.  But she was just too damn loud.

         Marcellus had found another potential replacement a few nights later, but she was too blonde.  And the cycle continued on for months.  Every night Marcellus would go out to look for her – the perfect woman – and every night he was disappointed.  There was always something, always one flaw that Marcellus just couldn’t ignore.  The longer he searched the more he realized that he was no longer looking for a replacement - he was searching for Adelynn.  After a few more weeks he finally found her.

         She seemed unscathed by the break up, sitting at the bar, laughing with her girlfriends – so far from how Marcellus had imagined, yet just how he remembered.  Her shiny red hair seemed to have grown wilder. It made her look untameable, her petite frame sexy in the small black dress.  After a quick glance at the body he missed holding close at night, Marcellus had to turn away.  She was no longer his, she was someone else’s.  And Marcellus had just realized how much he needed Adelynn.

         Their first night in the same room in so long had ended fruitlessly, for Marcellus at least.  He had sat at the bar drinking beer after beer, watching Adelynn dance with man after man, finally deciding upon her prey.  Oh, how Marcellus wished it was him.  Even if it was for just one night, it would be better than the torment of watching.

         Nights continued on that way, Marcellus watching from afar, Adelynn with a different man each night.  It seemed that was how things would continue on forever – until Marcellus finally worked up the nerve to talk to the beauty, the one, his perfect woman.  He’d been drinking more than usual, and the hard stuff; by the end of the night he was tired of watching, tired of waiting.

         Marcellus couldn’t remember his exact words, though through painful, blurry memory he thought they were somewhere along the lines of, “So, are you going to fuck that one, or the one over there, checking you out?”  Needless to say, the night did not end very well.  Adelynn had bit Marcellus’s head off, while making sophisticated little comments with her friends – a fine improvement.  Though he had noticed she hadn’t taken a man home that night.  He must have upset her, though in what way he didn’t know.

         The next night, Marcellus apologized for his behaviour while he was still sober and in control of himself.  However, it didn’t really help, at least in the short term.  It took many more nights to get back on speaking terms with Adelynn – she was many things, but humble most certainly did not make the list.  After they’d finally exchanged civilized words, things between the two quickly improved until they finally returned to the relationship they’d shared before things were so sorely interrupted.

         This time Marcellus asked Adelynn to move in with him.

         The relationship was lined with little spats – arguments about the smallest things.  “Can’t you ever put down the bloody seat?” Adelynn would scream from the bathroom.  “Watch where you fucking put your shit - my papers are dirty!” Marcellus would counter from the living room.  But besides it all, the two cared for each other.  It was the only thing that kept them going.

         Marcellus had always believed in learning from his mistakes.  He had his set ways at work, the ways he’d discovered after a few failed attempts.  And yet, when it came down to Adelynn, he’d been a complete idiot.

         Adelynn wanted more.  She wanted the life she’d always dreamt of but never thought she’d get.  She wanted to be a bride in white.  She wanted a loving husband, maybe even children – though she wasn’t sure on that one.  She wanted more than the meaningless life she’d led for years.  And in the end, if she had to have it with someone other than Marcellus, she would take it.

         And Marcellus, he just never knew what he wanted until it was gone.  He realized this now, now that he’d lost everything he had to lose.  Time had made him a fool, moving faster than he realized.  Fate had lied and cheated him.  It was only now that Marcellus knew he should have asked Adelynn to marry him the moment they met.  It was only now that he knew he should have jumped off the ladder at the first rest stop he found, should have quit his job as soon as he got it.  And it was only now that he understood the old man’s words, understood just what he’d done wrong.

         Marcellus had put all his trust in the clock.  He’d told himself he’d ask her the question – but not yet.  In a little while.  But time had let him down, had disappeared without a trace.  There was no going back, no moving forward, and no fixed present.

         “Time is a figment of your imagination… Don’t put your trust in the ticking clock; it will only let you down.”
© Copyright 2008 wylann (kissonthemouth at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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