He hit the keys to lock his work computer and reached up to turn off his desk lamp. He let out a sigh, like he did every day after work. He loved the work he did, but it could be exhausting at times, and the responsibilities of making sure everyone's computers were working from their own home offices could be a little daunting. That sigh seemed to help him release the daily stress and let him separate his work life from home life, like mentally closing the door behind him. Unless, of course, he was on call. Then it didn't matter how many sighs he did, he knew he could get a call at any time of the day.
Fortunately, this weekend was his own, and he planned to do little to nothing as much as possible. His dream still haunted him, as it had all day long. It distracted him mentally, and physically he was exhausted. He felt like he did in his younger days when he would play games with his online friends all night, getting less than two hours of sleep before he had to start work again. At least with that kind of tired, it was self-inflicted and he had something he got to enjoy out of the process. Last night was far from enjoyable.
He pushed his chair away from his desk and glanced at the drawer that held the tablet. He was still angry with himself for believing that things could be somehow good, that he could have something or someone nice in his life. He knew he would be able to let that go though. He was a good person, a kind person, but he knew he had many faults. He also knew that he didn't deserve to have his emotions played with like some kind of twisted online puzzle game. He always told himself that he was no prize, so he understood his feelings of resignation, that he was never going to be good enough to be happy, to be loved. He tried to be that person, over and over again, but he knew deep in his heart, that the companionship he used to want and need was never going to be there for him.
He shook his head and grimaced a bit at his thoughts. I sound like a angry old man, don't I? But he wasn't angry at anyone, other than himself. He didn't blame anyone but himself for being who he was. He understood and accepted this as part of his life. It wasn't rage or antipathy directed at anyone. It was just acceptance, and sadness, and frustration that he had believed in something, had broken his own self-appointed vows to never let this happen again, and the inevitable heartbreak that comes every time he tried to find hope or happiness.
He got up from the chair, ignoring his almost overpowering desire to want to log in on that tablet to see if she had written him, to see if she did finally care what happened to him and why he quit writing. No, he told himself. You have to stop. You know you can't keep putting yourself through this. The only way to heal is to stop the reminders. Stop the exposure. He needed to let go and move on and actually follow his vow to never let this happen again. Sure, he wanted to be happy, but he could live without it. It wasn't a necessity, like food, water, or shelter. He lived without it for years, and he could do it again. He needed to do it again. He couldn't take another loss, another broken heart, another fall from grace.
He looked at his desk that held the now-dead computer. He didn't have any desire to troubleshoot his own equipment right now. He just wanted to rest. He was so very tired. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, ordered the pizza he said he was going to get, decided he was going to get pepperoni because, what the heck, and had it delivered. The past twenty-four hours had sapped any energy he might have had to go pick up his own food. He was being a home-body for the weekend.
He put his phone back in his pocket and walked over to the sofa. He looked at his book on the table, with this morning's coffee mug still sitting on top of it. He didn't have energy nor the mental capacity to concentrate on a book, even if it was reading for fun. He grabbed the remote and decided he was going to try and find a movie to watch. He logged into a couple of subscriptions he paid for, but nothing piqued his interest. He finally decided to just channel surf, seeing if anything was interesting.
He briefly stopped on a channel that was a dog show of some kind and watched a couple of the dogs going through the course. He always smiled a bit when the dogs did the slalom part of the competition. There was something adorable about seeing the dogs whip back and forth through the posts. It made him grin distractedly, and he needed that. The doorbell rang. His pizza. He had almost forgotten about it. He wasn't very hungry, but he figured he could just save it for later if needed. Cold pizza was almost as good as hot. He opened the door and paid the driver. He took the pizza, closed the door behind him, snicking the deadbolt, and walked to the kitchen. He was just going to put the pizza on the counter for the moment. He had no interest in food (So why did you order it you moron?) He didn't want anything to eat, but he was suddenly very thirsty.
He put the pizza down, opened the cabinet door that held the glasses, and everything went silent. He felt he had completely lost his hearing. He pulled at his ears a bit, but nothing changed. He shook his head. The world was silent. A muted sound, barely audible came from the living room. He looked around, suddenly afraid. Everything was normal. The lights were working, there were no terrifying creatures trying to crawl onto his furniture. He couldn't hear anything, except for a muffled sound coming from just ahead. He snapped his fingers in front of his face and heard nothing. He moved forward into the room, cautiously following the sound. It was coming from his TV, but it sounded like the treble had been turned all the way down, and the bass all the way up. There was dialogue, or sounds at least, but the picture was static, hazy images in the background like an old television trying to connect to a channel with very weak signal.
The images started to get clearer, and he thought he recognized what he was seeing. The sounds were familiar. He remembered this movie. It was The Ring. This was the scene where the video was playing in the movie. The disturbing images, the sounds. It creeped him out when he first saw the movie, but with recent events, it scared him far beyond the fear you would get from watching an old horror movie. The image cleared a bit and he saw the circle, the top of the well, and it slowly closing. He felt light-headed and the image blurred in front of him. He reached out to brace himself on a nearby chair, but the world went black and he lost consciousness.