Found:
Why is everyone so interested in my interactions with that man? Why am I constantly being asked about him? What is it that makes him, and by extension a none-existent "us," so fascinating?
"What do you think of him?"
"Do you think it would work out with him?"
"Do you want it to work out with him?"
Have I somehow given the impression that there's more going on between he and I than there actually is? We speak on occasion. We laugh on occasion. He annoys me on occasion. A caustic, egomaniacal, judgemental, know-nothing know-it-all who barely bothers to conceal his more cruel words beneath a smile and a joke. A moody, feckless, would-be drunk with aspirations of laziness and a driving desire to live solely on the good will of others.
But how much of that is a mask? A cover? A play for self-preservation?
Rule number one; never get attached.
'Tis a rule I lived by for so very long and, it seems to me, he abides by his own version of it. What point in letting oneself become close to someone else when one will only leave them behind soon enough? That way lies only misery and regret. If you don't let yourself become attached to someone, then you can't be hurt by them or by your own departure. Simple. Keep them at arms length. Have your fun and go. No harm done.
Of course, I could just be viewing the man through a lens coloured by my own experiences. It may well be that he's everything he appears to be, that there is nothing beneath the surface, nothing more lurking behind his eyes. It could be that he's just the arse he presents himself as.
I'm not convinced.
But as things stand, nor am I convinced that it's worth finding out.
On my way through Bree, I ran into Eordion. We spoke at length; something we've not done since those difficult days following our break-up. We even shared a drink. Whisky. Not a good plan, but I wasn't really in the mood for being sensible. He asked me what I thought of Aldiann. What could I say?
I've seen very little of the woman, but my impression of her thus far is... less than wonderful. She seems nice and well-meaning in her own way, but would appear to have all the mental acuity of a four-year old. His protest that there's more to her than meets the eye was shortly brought into question by the woman herself running by, screaming and crying after a cat who had found a bird to eat. Watching her flump down upon the grass and Eordion go to comfort her in the manner of a father calming down a distraught toddler was... interesting to say the least.
Ah, but they are happy and that is good to see. What else could possibly matter?
I wish I hadn't drunk the whisky, though. I didn't have much but even that was enough. I've a heavy head, a very angry stomach, and far too much work to do around this house!
At least I didn't set anything on fire or lose a body part this time.
