“Mark, you’re too cynical.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not cynical, I just have a realistic expectation that most things in the world are against me and that everything that isn’t is probably either too stupid or too boring to care about anyway.”
“So what am I?”
“What do you mean?”
Sally sighed. “Am I against you, stupid, or boring?”
“You know you aren’t any of those things.”
“Well, according to you, everything is one of them.”
“You’re different. You’re unique. You’re special.”
“How long has it been since you’ve actually believed anything that’s come out of your mouth?”
Mark, for once, had nothing to say. They’d had this argument, or ones like it, so many times before, but this felt different.
“You’re empty Mark, nothing but a chip on your own shoulder. I’m done… We’re done.”
She walked out. Mark stared after her. Now he really did feel empty.