Misery Doesn't Love Company

                                            Misery Doesn’t Love Company

                                                    By Daryl Campbell



         People claim misery loves company, but I’m finding that difficult to except as I close in on my end. Misery screams, causing my head to hurt, and hides under pretend smiles and pleasant attitudes when company’s around. I can feel it there, creeping under my skin, when anyone spends time with me, talks to me.

         It surprises me that nobody sees the misery in my eyes, hears it when I talk. It can’t hide that well. If it loves company so much, why don’t tears pour down my cheeks when company’s here. Hell, I cannot stop crying when I’m alone. Why wont it let me say “I need a hug, I want you to ask me to live, I need someone to be here for me, or I’m begging for someone to be here for me”? It keeps me quiet until it can get me alone and claw at the hope I raise, tear the joy out of my heart with a grip I cannot break. I have tried.

         I’ve kept people at arms length throughout my life. That being so, how does misery still hide the emotions when I have company? It’s exhausting. It pulls at me with such force. Surely someone sees it, can recognize it there.

         Yesterday, my ex-wife came to see me, to talk with me. With so much time gone and so many miles between then and now, she still seems to see through me. She didn’t say so, but I saw it. The bastard I was to her, she still shows concern. Though we no longer love one another, I was happy to talk with her. Misery didn’t like the company though. It wouldn’t let me tell her how sorry I am for who I was, that I did truly love her then, and that I’m glad she has a good life now. It was asking me to be a jerk, to make her leave without finishing the conversation. Misery wasn’t at all happy with her here and was joyous when she left. Past mistakes wrap around me like a blanket. It loves being alone with me, to mold me into a helpless, crying figure sprawled across a wooden floor. Thinking it over, I have to laugh.

         I made the choice already and will not ask for saving. I don't want to be alone while I wait though, and I do have some things to finish. Misery feels that it needs me alone. It hates that company makes me happy and lets me talk, subtly, about where I’m heading. I wish misery did love company, I do.

         Misery doesn’t really love company. Let’s be honest about that.