Chew on it.

Chances are all we have.

Month: February, 2015

Snippets

“You mentioned ‘attractive’.”
“I must have.”
“So you find me attractive?”

“It’s an observation. Almost clinical.”
“I’m not meant to take it as a compliment?”
“If it pleases you to think of it as one, by all means.”

“So you’d look a second time.”
“A third as well. What is the grilling for?”
“Oh nothing. I was on the verge of being flattered.”
“Would you want to be flattered for you accidental combination of chromosomes?”

“Have I ever meant to you more than an argument?”
“What sort of validation are you asking for?”
“An emotional one. Do I mean anything to you besides my counterpoints?”
“Of course you do. You’re a sounding board on the occasions that I am uncertain.”
“Nothing more?”
“If you are expecting an answer that I don’t know of, you are heading for disappointment.”

“Would you consider flattering me as a by-occupation?”

“I think you misunderstand. There is plenty about you that should attract flattery. Don’t you get a lot of it?”
“Flattery matters only as much as the person dishing it.”
“It is a tempting offer.”
“In return you will have my unwavering devotion for as long as you like.”
“Is this a commitment?”
“It feels like one.”

Volcanoes.

‘Tremendous effort’ – words that come to mind for a task as natural as stepping out. There is no claim to being depressed but for the past year, something unpleasant and perhaps destructive has set off within that refuses to go. It is a phase, but most phases leave one unscathed. This hasn’t.

You fall in love with an enigma that cannot keep up with your emotional tangle and so, after a long period of push, pull and batter, leaves. In this case, forces you to leave. The happiness of meeting someone attractive from the male species is mostly doubted because self-doubt consumes you – can you handle anything at all? Days are passing with occasional flings, longer fantasies and twisted hopes that will never manifest.

You’re too ugly, too immature, too fat, too unassertive, too inexpressive and all those constants that have tattooed themselves. A man found to be a friend and a companion cannot be held back because your dreams of are different even if your realities are the same. Perhaps we should run in opposite directions till the rope snaps and nothing but frayed ends remain.

“He deserves better than you.”

You have decided that and so the ‘he’ in question shall always remain uninformed about the volcanoes that rise to the summit and refuse to erupt. So you crawl away and are secretly glad he hasn’t noticed – the rope stops to exist and you shake yourself out of the knot and he tugs before you have stepped out.

I’ll take that rope and hang myself, thank you because otherwise there is no untying myself from you and the dreams you infect me with.

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Chances are all we have.

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