The Baby Seals Slipper Thoughts

 

The clock was ticking in the background as Basil turned over in his bed for the tenth time already. The sheets were warm and even the backside of the pillow wasn’t welcoming cool anymore. His lack of sleepiness annoyed him. He knew he was tired and he needed to fall asleep soon if he didn’t want to be grumpy the next morning. He threw a look to the clock on the wall. 02.00AM. Grumpy it is.

He kicked the blanket to the side, thinking that the heat could be the main problem here. But it wasn’t even close to the main problem and he felt it deep down. Just count till 100, Basil thought to himself, but the count was lost after 35 and he shook his head, useless. There was nothing to distract him, nothing to talk to and nothing to do to pass time. He just needed to fall asleep, but his mind couldn’t find ease, it kept coming back to the same spot where it was cruising for the past two weeks.

Basil sat up in his suddenly so uncomfortable white bed and looked directly through an open window in front of him. He lived on the upper floor in a small old house near the river. It wasn’t a coincidence that the curtains weren’t closed, he couldn’t sleep without knowing or seeing where he was. He saw the lights of cars and buildings blinking cozily on the horizon, the reflection of their lives glimmering on the evenly moving and splashing water. Look at ‘em living so easily. Bunch of b******s. Basil guessed that it was his main problem, making things complicated, and he was right. But there wasn’t much he could do against it, he was a devoted romantic and occasionally a passionate idiot. And romantic idiots don’t have it easy.

The bed made a squeaky sound when Basil got out of it. The pillows, sheets and blankets seemed so comfortable from the distance, but it was just a trap. Basil, as anyone should do, had two pillows. One for his head and the other one for cuddling and pretending he wasn’t falling asleep alone. Only sociopaths didn’t have an urge to cuddle at night. He stood on the left side of the room without turning the lights on. There was enough light from the broadly opened window. The wind blew outside, it moved the curtains of his bedroom, but Basil didn’t feel cold. It wasn’t any cooler than his mood right now. The brown, orange and red leaves danced in a pale moonlight, a fascinating phenomenon to watch if only we didn’t have more important things to do. Basil looked around, hoping to notice something to keep him distracted and hopefully to tire him eventually. But the room offered only a few items. Two big bookshelves to the right from his bed caught his eye, the left one was filled with his favorite novels, short stories and comics, meanwhile the right one was stuffed from the bottom to the middle with similar literature. Its upper shelves were left for his personal things that he has collected during his years. Among many car models stood his Bat-Signal, projecting a bat symbol on the wall. Basil took it in a lazy manner into his hand and turned it off.

“Gotham deserves better. Call Superman.”

A little part of him died saying it. He combed through his fluffy light hair with his right hand, a habit that probably only Basil himself found to be attractive. The bedroom happened to be disappointing on so many levels and on so many nights. Basil took his time to find his slippers which looked like two baby seals. He shook his head while smiling at his own humor. No wonder I’m still single.

The two baby seal heads bobbling up and down lead him into the corridor and then into the living room. Basil still chose to leave the lights off, since all of the curtains were open. His living room was connected with the kitchen, something that would have bothered him if he didn’t live alone. The kitchen on the left was lurking in the dark, Basil saw only the red numbers on the timer display of the oven, and since he had no interest in setting the right time on it, he went into the living room. He didn’t want to watch a movie, nor any series, instead, he turned on his stereo. He turned the volume down just a little bit that the neighbors couldn’t complain about the noise, but just enough to let the music mute his own thoughts.

His most beloved playlist came on and he was sad to admit that she managed to ruin a part of those songs for him. About three to be exact. He changed the track, the bass line didn’t indicate any vanilla thoughts in the air and he felt safer for a moment. Basil started to walk towards the window, but he stopped himself. He knew that he will see the streets and spots that will make him think about some little meaningless moments with Mila and he didn’t want to think about it. He stayed put in the middle of the living room, on a fluffy light yellow rug, and stared at the wall behind the stereo. He hung there a portrait a week ago, which he got at a flea market for a few euros. It was a portrait of a young beautiful girl - she was standing in the middle of the painting, looking back at him, holding wild flowers in her arms, but she held a distance between them and her body as if she wanted to give them away. In the background of the picture there was an empty field and a forest, the trees were painted standing in different direction as if the wind was blowing from the west. If one was an art historian, he or she could have interpreted something behind the portrait. But Basil was an idiot, ignorant for most expressions of art, so he gave up immediately.

The song came up. Not just any song on his playlist, but the one that reminded Basil of her. The lyrics weren’t relatable to their relationship, the title and the band were misleading, Mila probably didn’t even know the song, but it had the groove, it had the funk, it had something what she had and both of them made him feel different about himself even if it was only for a second. Basil was thinking desperately how to change the tracks of his train of thoughts away from her. Obviously, he could have switched the song and move on, but, honestly, he couldn’t and he didn’t really want to. Even if not for her - it was a damn good song. He wondered for a while if she would like it. Probably not. And then a genius idea popped to his mind - dancing.

And not just any dancing! He kicked his baby seal slippers to the side and jumped out of his pyjama pants. He stood uncomfortably naked in his dark living room, questioning his life decisions. But it was a good distraction, he had to admit. He never danced sober, that was an activity reflecting confidence and freedom, two qualities that romantic idiots don’t possess. He took a deep breath, looked around, made sure that only the portrait girl was watching and started to clumsily move his body around. The beat was easy to catch on, but he felt stupid for moving in the same way over and over again, so he included his hips and occasionally waved around with his arms. It must have looked terrible from the side, but he was having fun and that was the point of it. Four songs later he thought of her and about how great she dances. He stopped moving at once. He couldn’t compete with that dancing. More importantly, he didn’t want to anymore.

He left his clothes on the ground and went to the kitchen. A few moments after he came back and took the slippers with him, the floor was too cold to stand on barefoot. Basil opened the fridge, which stood on the right side of the kitchen, and stared into it without even blinking, but the view was disappointing, so he decided to make himself a cup of tea. On the counter there were only two things - his water kettle and a pink orchid. He was pretty sure that his mom put it there. Without taking an extra step he stretched his right hand and wanted to open the fridge door, but he reminded himself that there wasn’t anything good. Right after this he opened the fridge, just to make sure. There still wasn’t anything good in it.

The water kettle started to sing the song of its people, so Basil stood in front of him, staring at it, as if to make the process go faster. With the corner of his eye he caught a movement to his left, therefore he turned on the lights. He saw his own naked reflection in the mirror, looking annoyed and tired, asking him why he still wasn’t sleeping. Basil walked up to the mirror and studied it carefully. While he wondered with his gaze over his skin, he made himself some notification: “…yes, yes, not much of advantage, but we gotta roll with it, no, I have to do something about it, but probably won’t, F**K YES, meh...” Basil was over the age when he blamed some of his body imperfections for his failed relationships. He knew that if something went wrong, the problem was way more obvious and hurtful - his personality. He brushed his blond hair with his right hand again, tilted his head to the side, looked at the mirror for the last time and mumbled under his nose while going back to the kettle:

“I’d do me.”

Not only a romantic idiot, but also arrogant as hell. He took his favourite cup from the shelf and made himself some Turkish tea that he got at the market. And then he didn’t have any clue what he could do to keep him distracted anymore, so Basil turned around and with the cup in his hand went to the window. With his left elbow he touched the cold glass and with the same hand he supported his head. He felt even more tired, but still not in a sleepy way, he just felt that all the tricksters that he tried to pull on his mind were fading away and it finally went on the one and only track that it wanted to go to - Mila.

Basil sipped on his tea and looked straight to her house, which was visible from this side. She lived in a small house with an enormous garden around it. Her windows were dark, she was probably sleeping. Tall oaks were hiding the little building from the outside world and stalkers like him. For a second he felt guilty for staring, but then he got even more arrogant and thought that it was only fair, because she is the reason why he is still up so late.

They met a few weeks ago for the first time. He was looking for that special someone who would change his life for the next twenty minutes, she, on the other hand, apparently was looking for something else. After their first meeting he was intrigued, after the second one he knew that he is going to fall for her for sure and after the cold third one he thought he messed it up. And now after the forth one he knew that it wasn’t completely his fault that things didn’t worked out. It was timing’s fault, mainly. Typical side effect of being a romantic idiot.

Mila fell for another guy, at least not recently, she told him. She loved him for a long time now and now the destiny moved its finger and she got a chance to get him after chasing him for so long. Basil was happy for her, he truly was. His happiness wasn’t faked in order to please her, where he hoped that her plan will fail and then he will be the one shoulder for her to cry on. No, he wanted her to be happy, even if her happiness was somewhere else. He recalled her saying that she wasn’t that type of girl who regrets not trying something out, she just goes for the things she wants.

“Of course she does.” Basil smiled and burned his tongue with the tea.

It made him angry that he didn’t really had any claim to feel sad. He was disappointed, but in himself, not in Mila. He was disappointed in his stupid thoughts that he could be her friend and only a friend. It’s not like he’s in love with her or anything, he just… No, he didn’t like her. He liked his books, playlists, cars, slippers, tea and other things. She, well, she fascinated him. Mila was different, one of a kind, and he couldn’t tell if she was aware of it or not. What a pity would it be to live a life without knowing that you’re a fascination. He asked himself if it wasn’t only his mind playing tricks on him and making her seem so perfect. But even his wild imagination couldn’t pull such a masterpiece. She was natural in perfection. And he was her biggest fan.

Basil thought about their first meeting, when he barely opened his mouth. It wasn’t like he didn’t have what to say, she was just too overwhelming. She led the way and he followed her around like the sun without giving it a second thought. All of her smiling, joking and touching that were presented in an innocent way, which he secretly suspected were only her tactics, left him breathless. On the way to the parking lot he had to smile like an idiot, no, like a happy romantic idiot, he felt that it was no regular everyday date, finally he found the first glimmers of his happiness. Before her every girl thought him something what he didn’t want to have. Mila gave him a taste of what he craved for and leaving him still hungry was just cruel.

He was also disappointed in himself for being such a dork every time she was around. But everyone that knew her had to agree that it was nearly impossible to follow her and be at the same level with her. It was enough to feel the sensation of being part of her life, of her ideas. Standing naked in his dark living room, Basil slurped on his tasty tea and cursed himself for being a moron. Didn’t he have interesting hobbies? Didn’t he have amazing friends? Wasn’t he nice and funny? Oh, yes, he had everything and more, but Mila didn’t know anything about it. Every time she asked him to tell her about himself, he felt like a child doing chores to get back outside as fast as possible. His answers were fast and short, exactly that combination that didn’t make him appear so well in her eyes. Well, apart from nice and funny, she said to him that he was nice and funny. Another wonderful side effect of being a romantic idiot.

“But I’m awesome.” He said quietly to himself. Only the portrait girl could have believed such dubious statement.

A drunk man on a bicycle was passing by, driving in wavy lines near the river. Been there, done that, Basil thought to himself and cheered the man with his tea cup. He hoped that he will get home safely. He drank the rest of the tea and put the cup on a coffee table and came near the window for one last time. He suddenly felt an urge to grab his phone and call her. Or more realistically text. But there was nothing he could say and nothing that she wanted to hear from him. And he had to settle with it.

It drove him crazy that things may be different if they met a month ago or a month later. But they met now and it was probably meant to be. He liked her, not necessarily in an extremely romantic way, it just bothered him that his options were cut off just after they hit it off. He didn’t even get a chance to properly fall for her, he wasn’t supposed to love her or want her in the future either. At least he still could get his heart broken, that was for sure.

“That’s the spirit.”

Basil still didn’t let go of the house with his eyes. It was true though, that he was happy in a way that things worked out like this. She was honest with him and he didn’t really deserve to be with her. Mila was perfect in his eyes. Basil was okey in everyone’s eyes. And he knew that everyone was right. It’s not that he was bad, it’s just that they weren’t comparable as partners. Sad and harsh, but still true. He couldn’t offer her such variety of experiences, friends and hobbies. He didn’t even want to think what she was able to do in the bedroom. He was sure it was good, but good enough to make him feel bad about himself.

Basil rubbed his eyes, he finally felt some sleepiness coming to his mind, so he grabbed his pyjama pants and went to his bedroom. He missed her, he missed his new friend and even though it was complicated, it was complicated only for him and as strange as it sounds, he was willing to deal with it. People like Mila inspire and he needed an inspiration in his life more than ever. And he could be her friend if she needed one. He left out a sight:

“Let’s be honest here. I’ll be whatever she needs me to be.”

He rolled into his bed and laid there for a few minutes, looking at his baby seal slippers. At least baby seals don’t have to deal with romantic idiot’s problems.