Curtain call

A few people say they write their best when their down. 


Being down. 


That one time when all the emotions that are howling inside us and wanting to go out have been awarded all the license to wreak havoc. That one time, when we gain all the authority to cry our hearts out and to malign this god-wretched life. That one time, when we we wish things went in our way.


Our way.


I have my way, I often say. In writing, in dealing with people, in handling my expenses, in shopping, in nearly everything I do. To me it's important to have your own take on the matters at hand, and this matter I take my way as well.




If I were to speak  using my present hat, I would instantaneously utter that my relationship before this recently concluded one hasn't been that mature. Thus, the promise to be more giving and understanding in my next one.


I'm guessing I became a little too understanding, way too giving and I ridiculously adjusted to all his whims.


Then I reached the brink. 


I've no flexible patience that stretch to the farthest end of the world, what kept the relationship afloat was my hope. Hope that he'll change. Hope that he'll see reason and finally act upon his initiatives. Hope that this relationship is good for eternity.


Dolefully, in that nearly three years of high and low relationship I just recently discovered that hope is not something we mutually share. 


Upon learning about that, everything seemed to flash before me. This shit is not what I signed up for. Those excuses come with expiry date, and his just came yesterday. Apathetic, tear-less and guilt-free I said the two words that's has been forming a lump on my throat for weeks, We're done.