Welcome to The Eyes of Insecurity – a musical story inspired by Hit the Dark by Air Dubai. Enjoy!
The Eyes of Insecurity
Smoking cigarettes helps me navigate the dark place. Mama says I shouldn’t be going there, but that’s where I felt comfortable. I liked drowning in my own misery, feeling like I was the only one in the world with problems. Heading to the dark place enveloped me in a protective shield, blocking out anyone who tried to rip down my walls.
I loved the days when I was at Mama’s on the porch swing in the backyard to be alone. That’s when I could ignore the life crumbling around me. I used to be on top of the world, until my company went under and I lost everything. It had been two years since the company, my baby, filed for bankruptcy. Turns out, the business world chews up entrepreneurs and spits them out.
Mama kept pushing me to try out a new business idea, but losing the last one nearly broke me. My thirties were supposed to be when I had everything figured out, the time when everything fell into place and I would live happily ever after.
As I sat on the porch at my brother’s house, sucking on the cigarette, a voice shattered my bubble. “Loneliness loves company.” Pat pushed my legs off the seat so he could be beside me.
“That’s your opinion,” I said, blowing smoke in his face.
Everyone knew when I was smoking not to bother me, so he brought that on himself.
“Talk to me. I know you’re not doing as well as you say.”
“I used to be a star, a business titan,” I suffered a coughing fit, “But I’m not lonely. I’ve failed, and it’s time for me to figure out how to live a new life. The entrepreneurial game isn’t my thing. It’s gone forever.”
“You’re always so dramatic. Just think about right now and what kind of work will make you happy. You’ve made do before, and you’ll do it again.”
“Yeah? What if I can’t?”
“I’m here to support you. I love you.”
“Don’t want your love. I want money and power.”
“Don’t we all.”
“You’ve never understood me. We may have been raised the same, but we come from different worlds. You’re not as driven as me.”
“At least I go after what makes me happy instead of throwing pity parties.” Pat got up and went into the house.
His words echoed in my head, and I dropped the cigarette in the ash tray. “Are you here with me, Mama? Can you tell Pat that I hate when he’s right?”
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