“A paranoid is someone who knows a little of what's going on.”
-William S. Burroughs
His left hand bandaged up, the junkie pled with his girlfriend over the phone.
"Are we together or what? I texted you first today, are we together or not? Are you sure? Are you sure? I love you too, I wouldn't even fucking, I miss you as well, I just wanna know if me and you.. or what the fucks going on? I'm asking if you, I'm asking if you, as soon as you put the fucking thing on Facebook, you had like a hundred comments like "let's meet up", what the fucks going on?"
The junkie nursed his hand painfully, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder.
"You trying to make me angry? Like are you saying you didn't meet up with no guys, had no drinks, nothing? You deleted me on Facebook, I deleted everything I had of me and you, now I got nothing.. "
He looked as if he was going to cry until he realised half the tram was pretending they couldn't hear him.
"So obviously you don't love me, the way it's going.. well what the fuck, well, huh? Is there even a point of me coming home or you meeting up with me? Is there? Tell me.."
This thinly veiled reference to giving up, to suicide, to validate his feelings of worthlessness made me sick to my stomach. God gave you a spine didn't he?
"So next minute you wanna get me done in the courts for rape, I dunno what to believe if you say that.. Whaddya mean ya shoulda be, you gonna prove shit to me.. You didn't start talking to guys, what it's about, sounds like you enjoyed it.. You just said youse were flirting, yeah you fucking did! You'd probably fuck off to North Melbourne you would.. "
That's right, get angry. Get angry and hang up. You look about sixteen years old, there will be plenty more holes for you to stick your dick in, a countless number of creatures to profess your undying love to, but not if you keep carrying on like this.
"Have you left yet? Nah you haven't.. Alright.. Are you at the station with ya mum? Doesn't sound like it.. What you mean let you talk, I wanna know if its worth trying to come see ya to patch things up! Huh! I'll call ya when I get to fucking Prahran.. Alright? Yep.. I love you."
Listening to his conversation, I had only pity for them both, and a resentment of the women I had encountered in my life that had been much the same. He had been subjected to so many different emotions in the past five minutes, yet he still had the weakness in his resolve to say "I love you" at the end of the phone call.
He stared me in the eyes as I was getting off the tram, obviously searching for a way to release the emotion he was feeling that he couldn't understand.
"You got a problem cunt?"
"No, but you sound like you do" I replied, pointing at his phone as I got off at my stop.
I watched his face through the departing tram window. It had turned from one of anger to one of sad confusion, as the depth of my offhand comment sunk in.