The man put down his drink with a dull thud and looks up at you. “Did I ever tell you ’bout my ol’ friend? No? Well I’ll make it quick.”
“See he has had terrible luck in the what you would call love. No matter how hard he tries, he falls flat on his face while others move into bliss.” He pauses to laugh and take another drink. “Damndest thing too. See it starts with his first who decided to fly to him. Then turns out she was using him to be better for this guy on the side.”
“Now he truly loved her, so this hurt him. Hurt him enough he went cold. Now I don’t mean the ‘I’m down so I won’t show emotion’ cold, I mean the type that you will feel a spiritual chill.” He shakes his head as if to clear it. “So this lasts a year or so til he meets another that does almost the same thing, except she goes another step and calls him a monster, sub human.” His eyes grow a bit soft, as if in sympathy. “Now trust me, he ain’t a monster, just has had a life full of pain and loss. Too much at times.”
“Now not too long after this though he did find some light. Wonderful woman that would change his life, in many ways. She shows him love and what it can mean to someone, but at the same time shows him how fickle things can get without meaning to. See she goes back to her first love, through the support my friend gave her. No blame in it all really, just the way shit happens.”
“Now of course this brings him crashing down. Three so far have either thrown him down or away. But he finds shelter in another, only to again find that she uses his support to find her truer love at the time.” He sighs long and heavy and downs his drink, putting it down on the bar upside down. “But this one would do more damage than what people would think possible. He almost ends it right then and there several times.”
He pauses to laugh a bit, it seems a bit awkward the way he does it. Like it is forced. “But he pulls through, goes numb. Then finds another who, like him, has gone through pain and loss. He does fall for her greatly only to find she, again, leaves him for a friend.” His smile has a creepy edge to it, as if he seems to enjoy this.
“Now we call him Cherub. Know why? Cupid. He is always portrayed as a cherub, helping those find their way, but never finding his own.” The bar tender brings him another drink, seems to be heavier on the whiskey this time, the smell stinging the air.
“Now let me ask you something. What should we tell him to help him? Move on and find another, cause this can’t possibly happen a sixth time? Give up all hope and slip away? Or just suck it up as if there were no pain or coincidence?” He finishes the drink in one go and closes his eyes.
“Boy I wish you would tell me. Cause I have no idea why Cherub must fall.”
Welcome to the Thicket 