Her story…

Her Story

Go on. Keep hurrying on. Go on breathing, living, swearing, copulating, telling lies and keeping your mouth shut in cowardice. You are the ocean and still the ship on it. You are sinking. You are on fire. You are the mute fish. You are my flesh and bone. But you are my god.

Go on and reject me and make me ever different. You were stone but now you are wind. You have been but you have never been. You are alive but dead. A past relived in my mind every moment I sit in silence. And that is why I never let my brain spare a moment in idleness for in that instant you come alive but all against my wishes.

Her StoryThough an illusion it is, finding love makes it worth the pain of searching for it. And in you, I found the Calvary I always yearned for. This is her story of love, the one thing that makes it so easy to just sit back and enjoy mediocrity. And in so doing, the chance to grow eludes us and changes our life plans. And at that point in life, I put myself at half-mast.

Open to surprises and disappointment all in equal measure. All the same it was worth it, once I cried a little, lived from day to day. I cast away the pain of yesterday in preparation for today’s misery. And in readiness for tomorrow’s sorrows, I dismiss the agony that my present day hold, at night fall. For at day break, a new dawn may offer new joys or not, whichever.

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This is your story, you who is in a relationship ostensibly for love. A phase that exposes your memory to despair and makes you doubt your honesty is part of having a better half. For it tests the permanence of your grief and makes you cynical about life in love or love in life. For in her quest for friendship, she wants you to let her live.

Let her want and desire that which you can’t offer her. For human desire is insatiable. She wants a gentle world, a marvelously strange world. A world like a huge bed and a huge bottle of wine and no betrayal. Grant her the delusion of love and loyalty without unrest and spare her pain of bleeding into the sand.

Give no excuse when you err, own up as you should. For relationships do not drop dead, they expire gradually. From a thousand hurting words to a million misunderstanding, from the unwillingness to apologize to the willingness to revenge, then scandals, fights and war. But we move on, for that is what that makes us human though my face assumes a contorted expression with the mention of your name and my stomach turns.

This is her account on love, what she feels drag on inside her. Now go as you have become intolerable. And in her dotage, she will look back and see her vulnerability and the holy error you were. A remnant of reality you will be and in her enlightenment, she will critique her past. And then, you will be her biggest mistake but maybe with a few lessons in her grasp. But now when you have her, love like a dream and smile with endurance.



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