A dialogue inside a story...


(...)

"She was right. That was exactly what I thought. Some people just seem invulnerable to the common heartache stories. You look at them and see smiles, capability to choose no matter what, and no chance for scars. It’s like a glorious summer day with some occasional cloud. She seemed like one of those people who are not constantly happy, for perennial happiness is impossible, but somehow breeze through life wearing an invisible coat that shields them from difficulty and the constant threat of plausible heartache. And when you find them as vulnerable as any other person, with as many imperfections and incoherence as you can imagine, they become suddenly human. And that’s tough to register in five minutes.

“News flash, I’m not a marble statue. Sometimes I just want to hit you on the head with a shovel. What did you think? I’m some kind of princess sheltered from harm in a glass bubble?”

“Well, no but….”

“What? I never felt rejection, is that it?”

“Well, did you?”

“Hell, my sweet moron, there are a lot of types of negative response from others. Yes, most man I met wanted to fuck me, but I’ve been rejected in other ways. And there are harder forms of rejection than that. I’ve made my mistakes, and got hurt like everybody else, so where in the hell did you get that idea?”

“I’m sorry. I simply didn’t think you were the kind of person to have difficulty in getting what you want out of people.”

“Well, what’s that? If it’s praise, you’re sucking at it. And you’re getting on my nerves.”

“Well miss smart pants, give me an example.”

“Of rejection?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll find them all out, I can assure you. And eventually pay for them, and challenged to mend them. So you’re in for a tough ride.”

“I never thought otherwise.”