Post by Deleted on May 22, 2015 0:50:34 GMT -5
HANDS TO THE SKY, I AM A DREAMER
WE BUILD THE HOPE
WE ARE BELIEVERS
SOMEBODY FREE ME FROM MY CHAINS
WE BUILD THE HOPE
WE ARE BELIEVERS
SOMEBODY FREE ME FROM MY CHAINS
”You're welcome, but it's acclaim that's truly deserved.”
Her extolling words rendered him tongue-tied for a long moment. Not used to people praising him like that, he had no freaking idea how to handle the situation. For his entire life he had worked himself into the ground just so he could impress his family, especially his father, in whose eyes Joe never seemed to be enough. Yet, there she was, one of the most successful ladies in town, in all of Nevada actually and maybe even the States, regarding him with utmost respect.
How was this possible? Was she for real? It was hard for him to believe she was being honest about it, because in his opinion Joseph Townsend was a failure. Wow. Never before had he realized how miserable his self-esteem was. God damn it. It was downright pathetic now that he thought about it. He had never had time to ponder on such unsettling matters before, because he always swamped himself with work. And, now that this woman was trying to pick his brain and peel the layers off of his content exterior, he was starting to get anxious.
Her interest in him made him think about himself; and whenever he thought about himself, he felt gloomy. He did not know exactly why. It might have something to do with the fact that in reality he was not happy at all. Everything he did, he did for others, to make his family happy, to make his wife happy. And the most fucked up thing was that he felt extremely guilty whenever he spent time on things that benefited only him. Like, for example, this meeting with Miss Gabler.
True, he did not turn her down out of courtesy, but in the back of his mind, he really wanted to see her. Spending time with Bethany made Joe happy. It did not do any good to his family, or his wife; and the fact that he was doing something that was not for his loved ones, made him feel like he was doing something wrong. Was he out of his frigging mind? Taking a deep breath, he sighed heavily in a vain attempt to release some of his pent-up stress.
”Okay, so your father was an Inspector, is that what made you want to be in the police department?”
He looked her dead in the eye, his expression growing bleak. ”I don’t know,” he admitted, feeling peculiarly comfortable around her… as though he could tell her anything, and she would not judge. ”Honestly, I don’t know what I wanted…” I still don’t, he nearly added. ”I joined the police force to make my father proud. That’s all there’s to it.” Disheartened, he poked at his salad with his fork.
”What about you? What made you want to be a singer?” he asked, forcing a smile.