The Angel that Fell

(A beautifully dressed girl walks into a bar, she sits next to an older gentleman and he orders her a glass of champagne. She’s frigid and calculating in her demeanor) 

Thank you. You know, abused men love abuse. I used to think Freud was a pervert, but maybe he got it right. Men love their mommas and if she beats the crap out of him, he’ll love a woman who will do the same. He will try to recreate the pain, try to resolve it, try to show himself that he can win over the love he never received. He learns to value himself by his sexual prowess, especially if he is well endowed (sips on her champagne), and if he isn’t, then by how much money he can make.  He’s either a human dildo and or a money bag because apparently, that’s all he has learned to value himself by, love isn’t a concept the abused man understands. I had to learn that lesson the hard way. Thats the best way to learn now isn’t it? 

(She turns to look at the older man who is intrigued by her and he looks her in the eyes, she stares back and never blinks.)

I tried loving one of those types of men once. No matter what I did, or said, he always thought that my love for him was utilitarian. It only made me try harder, sink deeper into my feelings for him. At some point, I got so lost in his rabbit hole of confusion that I lost all sight of my own morals.  I learned that to keep him, I had to abuse him. I had to ignore him. I had to degrade him. I had to become as cold and dark as the trench found by the Mona island. I’m not saying I’m was the most stable to begin, but I thought that if I gave him what he was used to, I could slowly bring him into accepting love. But no, damaged men who need abuse can’t be changed. Instead, they turn good women who believe in relationships and love, into manipulative ones. They learn to train men like dogs because all women are taught that without a man you’re a failure as a women. It’s all just such a mess. Damaged men really do just enjoy abuse.

(The gentleman looks away embarrassed.) 

I can’t believe I tried to love him. 

Well, (raises her glass) here is to all the fucked up men that can’t be loved. To the ones that can’t recognize love when it stares them in the face. (He still cannot look at her). Cheers to you.

Do you know how hard it is to watch a man you love let his soul rot? A good man who is addicted to being used? You know, he used to just fall asleep in my arms like a baby and I felt his pain, so I showed him mine. Oh boy, (takes another sip) he was a disaster. Do you mind if I order something a tad bit stronger? (He shakes his head no). I’ll have a Glenlivet straight please. (The bartender brings her drink, she swirls its for a second and takes a sip. She closes her eyes and savors her drink She turns to him again.) Thank you.

You just can’t love someone who has no self-love. He taught me the necessity of being a selfish bitch. Maybe then I could have saved him, slowly weaned him off needing abuse, like you do with a drug addict. I bet you if I had ignored him, given him my ass to kiss, asked him to buy me a fancy watch (she laughs) and put him at the bottom of my list of men who chase me, he would have loved me.

But I loved him… (He looks at her again. She’s staring off into space). You don’t destroy someone you love. You think about their feelings, wants and desires, or at least I do. You take care of them. I could have had a field day with him. I lowered my standards, but few men have hearts like his, a heart like mine. It’s killed me to watch his heart desiccate. He’s become a complete jerk, a numbed asshole who confuses chasing and conquering with love.

(She looks at him again.) I ran into this woman not too long ago that I had been friends with in grade school. Turns out he was chasing her while I was chasing him. She told me about how idiotic he acts with her, he sounds like a complete loser. I never wanted to see him that way, talk about him that way, which is why I never let him chase me. Women love to make fun of men who chase them, it’s hilarious to talk about. He’s just doomed. Forever be used by women who don’t give two shits about him, I mean they care about him, but more what he can do for them, but not because of how amazing he is. And I refuse to watch, jerks go to hell and he isn’t dragging me with him. You can’t love a fallen angel, although they sure are beautiful.

(A handsome man walks by, you can tell that he is a wealthy man).

Thank you for the drinks, what’s your name again? Well thank you, Alfred. Oh, my name is Angel. No, you know too much about me now, I can’t give you my number. Sometimes it’s more beautiful when you don’t really get to know people, the fantasy of them does more for you than having them in your life. Disappointment hurts too much sometimes. I don’t want to disappoint you. 

Hey there, (takes another sip of her scotch as she approaches the handsome man), How would you like to buy me a watch? (She giggles). Of course you do (smiles seductively). Sure, I’d love for you to buy me a drink. That’s what I was really asking for. How does a man like you get a girl like me? (Grinning innocently) Well, what can you do for me?