Broken Romeo

Damien Sargue, 37, French native, divorced / single, straight, teacher

The name's Damien. I should start by saying that I'm a divorced guy, living the bachelor life. The reason of the divorce is simple, lies, lack of trust, lack of time and horrible in-laws. It all came with my choice of occupation. I'm a theatre veteran, used to be big in my days, but now I shrank to only teach the drama classes in the local art school. I like working with people, especially those ambitious ones. They don't scare easy and that's what counts.

I used to be like that. I used to be self-assured and more on the reckless side than the couragous. My life went crashing down when she told me it was over. That those three years of marriage and seven more of dating were going to be thrown into a shredder. I'm not sure who to blame for the whole incident, but I guess both of us are to blame. I wasn't really a good husband. I didn't know where the work border ended and the household started. My speciality were the missed dinners with her parents, but when we were supposed to spend Christmas with my family, she threw a tantrum and we spent that specific Christmas separated. She much disliked my smoking habit, told me often times that if we were ever to conceive a baby, I would have to stop with that and my ocassional can or two per half a year of beer just the same. I was forbidden to see my friends, even the theater receptions were off the limits as long as she wasn't by my side, because 'I get too cosy with the lead females on and off stage'. That wasn't true, not in that sense. I am... used to be a friendly guy, the one to strike up a conversation with anyone to cease the tension. I've never had a real enemy, just the fictional ones on the stage. But today... I've got nothing of that.

Not even the stage, not my wife, not my friends. I've got my little apartment that needs a lot of tweaking and constant repairing. It's a dump, no wonder I haven't had the balls to ever invite anyone over. Not even my parents, not even my mom! She would take this place apart if she saw the state it was in. And it wasn't really my doing. It was cheap, close to the art school and small enough to make me feel claustrophobic.

To better insight on me, I'm a thirty-seven years old guy, wifeless and childless. I work as a performing arts teacher and I enjoy moping around when no one can see. And I can't wait when this suffering called life will end for me. It's pointless anyway. I'm too old and too melancholic to even spend those so desired theater receptions after a performance. I can, but after all that, I don't even know if I want to do anything anymore.