Johnny Bravo

Johnny was a loner. He was a lovely loner. Johnny was a lover. A connoisseur of life. He knew what he wanted and went about it in his own way. When he didn’t know, he just took whatever came and knew he wanted that. He was popular, and powerful. Interestingly though, he was not only popular because he was powerful. Actually, it was more like he owed his power to his popularity, and he wielded them both with the grace of a fencer. Everyone liked Johnny. A few even loved him. But, Johnny was a loner.

They never would understand. It's not like Johnny didn’t like what he did. He wouldn’t do it if he didn’t. He had no regrets. There wasn’t an opportunity he felt he’d missed. It was the one that didn’t come knocking that he would seek. He had everything he needed and more, and he was content. He didn’t want more of what there was. It was that he thought life itself should have more to offer. He wanted what he didn’t know existed.

Johnny the lover died yesterday. He died knowing he wasn’t understood. He knew that he’d be missed for the person he was and thought it ironic that they should miss what he was without recognising who he was. Johnny walked out the door last night never to return. In a way, the loner killed himself. I don’t miss him. Soon they all won’t anymore. I knew Johnny. He wanted to be understood though I realised he was never meant to be. That’s why I killed him.