Short Stories
Dear Diary
Dear Diary,
I don’t know why I did it.
It’s not like I had an actual reason to.
I mean yeah, I had just had a slightly more stressful day at work than usual. But its not like it was anything I couldn’t handle or deal with.
I wasn’t depressed. At all. In fact quite the opposite - I had a great job, a wonderful loving family, a nice sized house that’s beautifully furnished, two amazing kids that brighten up my life just by entering the room. And on top of all that I married the girl of my dreams. My childhood sweetheart. And things between us couldn’t be more perfect. My life was going great!
So why did I do it?
Was I ill? Was something going on in my head that even I wasn’t fully aware of? Did I go temporarily insane for a moment?
Was it curiousity? I’ve always had a curious mind, always eager to learn new things, explore new places, find out how things work. And yeah, I have always been curious as to what it would be like - what you would feel as it happened, what or who you would think about, how long it would last….and most of all, what happened next?
But being curious about it isn’t the same thing as actually wanting to do it. I’ve had urges driven by my curiousity before, and I’ve given in to those urges on more than a few occasions - like the time when I was 8 and I was curious what it would be like to eat an earthworm. So I tried it. I still remember spending the rest of that day pretty much glued to the toilet seat, being violently sick.
But this? This is ridiculous. This is taking curiousity to stupid new heights. This was an urge that simply should have been impossible for me to act upon.
And yet, here I am. It’s incredible, that I could be that idiotic. That unbelievably selfish. I mean, granted - it’s answered ALOT of the questions I had, about alot of things. I have knowledge of things now that I would only have learned much later on. But was it worth doing what I did? I’d have to honestly say no. Not when I look back and fully realise how much I’ve given up. How much I had still yet to gain.
All because of one simple, split-second decision that I cannot explain or understand.
I’ll never forget it. It will haunt me from now until the end of time.
I’ll always remember the glowing orange number ‘37’ and the words ‘Kingston Street’. The brighteness of the red paint. The smell of diesel and oil and metal.
The sound it made when I connected with the front of that bus….
Things are so different now. I have to get used to a whole new way of life. New emotions, new sensations, sights and smells. New rules about what I can, and can’t do. What’s possible and what isn’t. I mean it’s not a bad thing. Not in the slightest. At least my curiousity is now totally quenched. I no longer have stupid urges that make no sense and get me in trouble. And hey, one great bonus is I didn’t end up where you’d think I would. It’s comforting to know we got that part very wrong.
Yet, despite this I am saddened that it will be many years before I get to see my family again. To hold my beautiful wife in my arms, tell my kids just how much I love them and how proud I am of them.
Because without them, this place for me can never truly be the place it’s meant to be…
Paradise.
I don’t know why I did it.
It’s not like I had an actual reason to.
I mean yeah, I had just had a slightly more stressful day at work than usual. But its not like it was anything I couldn’t handle or deal with.
I wasn’t depressed. At all. In fact quite the opposite - I had a great job, a wonderful loving family, a nice sized house that’s beautifully furnished, two amazing kids that brighten up my life just by entering the room. And on top of all that I married the girl of my dreams. My childhood sweetheart. And things between us couldn’t be more perfect. My life was going great!
So why did I do it?
Was I ill? Was something going on in my head that even I wasn’t fully aware of? Did I go temporarily insane for a moment?
Was it curiousity? I’ve always had a curious mind, always eager to learn new things, explore new places, find out how things work. And yeah, I have always been curious as to what it would be like - what you would feel as it happened, what or who you would think about, how long it would last….and most of all, what happened next?
But being curious about it isn’t the same thing as actually wanting to do it. I’ve had urges driven by my curiousity before, and I’ve given in to those urges on more than a few occasions - like the time when I was 8 and I was curious what it would be like to eat an earthworm. So I tried it. I still remember spending the rest of that day pretty much glued to the toilet seat, being violently sick.
But this? This is ridiculous. This is taking curiousity to stupid new heights. This was an urge that simply should have been impossible for me to act upon.
And yet, here I am. It’s incredible, that I could be that idiotic. That unbelievably selfish. I mean, granted - it’s answered ALOT of the questions I had, about alot of things. I have knowledge of things now that I would only have learned much later on. But was it worth doing what I did? I’d have to honestly say no. Not when I look back and fully realise how much I’ve given up. How much I had still yet to gain.
All because of one simple, split-second decision that I cannot explain or understand.
I’ll never forget it. It will haunt me from now until the end of time.
I’ll always remember the glowing orange number ‘37’ and the words ‘Kingston Street’. The brighteness of the red paint. The smell of diesel and oil and metal.
The sound it made when I connected with the front of that bus….
Things are so different now. I have to get used to a whole new way of life. New emotions, new sensations, sights and smells. New rules about what I can, and can’t do. What’s possible and what isn’t. I mean it’s not a bad thing. Not in the slightest. At least my curiousity is now totally quenched. I no longer have stupid urges that make no sense and get me in trouble. And hey, one great bonus is I didn’t end up where you’d think I would. It’s comforting to know we got that part very wrong.
Yet, despite this I am saddened that it will be many years before I get to see my family again. To hold my beautiful wife in my arms, tell my kids just how much I love them and how proud I am of them.
Because without them, this place for me can never truly be the place it’s meant to be…
Paradise.