With some people, you wonder, why did we break up?
On a night like this with the full moon hanging high up in the sky, its lustrous glow illuminating the sky and casting its light over shadows you’d sooner see buried; you pore over the inconsistencies in your otherwise flawless thought process perplexed by the human prerogative and inclination for irrationality.
Just how did it happen?
Was it just innocuously adding up, drip by drip, till one day it just brimmed over? Love but an unfortunate casualty of the callousness of time.
You were teetering at the edge of the precipice for the longest time without realising the precariousness of the situation. An ill thought out remark, a seemingly innocuous challenge and the once stalwart bricks came tumbling down like a house of cards, inertia and gravity making little of the rest.
You need only to look towards the principle of Newton’s first law to appreciate the futility of resultant saving measures.
The straw that ultimately broke the camel’s back was everything, and yet perhaps nothing at all.
As an exercise in further futile thought, with a wry smile playing on your lips, you look back with the added tools of hindsight and experience, and ruminate over whether given a do-over, you’d still follow in your predecessor’s footsteps, chronologically making those same mistakes till you arrived back at where you started, gingerly fitting into the preset moulds.
Afterall, who could decree that the alternative would not be much worse than the debris now left in the wake of these torrential storms; but with storms, there was the promise of being awash with the deluge of emotions. A covenant formed in the tempestuous blood waters.
Perhaps it was just all predestination- you were to meet, yet not meant to stay together. For if the Fates were to have spun it that way how could you, a mere mortal, challenge the yarns of time.
Then there are those where you muse, just why did we ever get together?
How did it happen?
Was it the pesky combination of various unlikely situational circumstances occuring together mitigating your standards- inebriation, or perhaps, for you not given to drink, more likely the sudden overwhelming banality of everyday life giving rise to the ultimate all-consuming cacoethes to engage your fecund imagination and drive into motion the series of gears that would spin away until it wrecked mayhem in your insipid life.
Just how cataclysmic could things get anyway? The universe has a way of reasserting itself. Pull, push.
Or maybe it was just the sex. Good sex often clouds judgment. Utterly ill-advised but not without its merits. Namely, orgasmic merits. And when weighing the scales, that often tips the balance.
And then there is Tychism. It was all the hand of chance.
It happened. But it didn’t have to happen. Nothing was ever set in stone. The confluence of factors played out the way it did, one random motion at a time.
And now you’re left with these assorted pieces, wondering why in the pale moonlight.
You challenge, “Why didn’t I matter enough for you to take the initiative to arrest my fears?”
He asserts, “You were never capable of letting it go, you’re plainly not able to. You’re afraid of everything because you can’t trust anyone anymore. Nothing I did would alleviate your fears.”
You refute, “I believed in you. I trusted you.”
He explains, “It had nothing to do with belief.
It is about how a mind works-
You make yourself believe in one thing; that’s all you can see. Then you get reminiscent and start regretting and comparing your life choices. And then you get detached. That’s about it, there was never any belief. Then comes the point where you lose that closeness. You start bottling stuff up developing negative emotions. Ultimately you find someone else to gain comfort from and receive appreciation and nurturing elsewhere.”
You confess, “I’m still glad I met you. After you, now I know I’m well and truly broken, there’s no hope for me, I have no trust left to offer.”
He accepts, “It took you long enough to admit that you’ve been thinking of this for awhile.”
You confide, contrite, “I’ve held out hoping I was wrong.”
He nods, “That’s the same thing. You never truly trusted anyway. You were only incapable of being alone.”
You wince, “I trusted you. I supported you. I believed you.”
He attests, “I know that. You were there when I needed you. So thank you.”
You state, “You were supposed to be my last gamble. I was going to marry you.”
He smiles, “Not with those doubts in your head. I was just the gamble you took when you were bored of the easy and monotonous.
It’s not a fault of yours. it’s just how life is when you’re from different places. That’s all. Maybe we just grew apart, found other things to prioritize along the way. I always told you what happens when you reach this place in life. There’s no recovering, no matter what the world thinks.”
You affirm, “I suppose that’s true. Yesterday, I cried for hours, today, there’s just a dull ache.”
He acknowledges, “Exactly. You broke up with me, decisively, so that does it.”
You offer, “You know I would take you back in a heartbeat.”
He chides, “Don’t be an idiot. Don’t ever do such things, it’s not worth it. You’ll destroy your life taking back people who aren’t worth it. Live by your decisions. It’s the best advice I can give you.”
You ask, “Why did this have to happen?”
He answers, “Fate perhaps. I’m sorry for not giving you the life you deserve, I really wanted to. It’s about time you were happy. And being with me would take a long while, it’s not worth it-”
You interrupt, “I have that with you. I can wait. I just need to know that I’m not wrong.”
He continues, “You’re not wrong. I’m not right for you I guess. Somewhere deep down obviously you feel that way. There’s no point going over it. Just move on.”
You declare, “I still love you. I still care about you my love.”
He declines, “I’m no one’s anyone. I’ll probably be like this forever.
You need to be okay with dealing with how you feel, I can’t make you feel something different. It’s not fair. I always told you, it’s in the mind. It’s done. It was coming for awhile, I accept that I may not be able to keep you happy. That’s it. I’m not mad, I really do hope you have a happy amazing life.
But that’s it. You’re never going to see me again, I can’t do it, it’ll hurt. After a bottle and a half of rum, my head is still fucked up. Seeing you would kill it.”
You try, “You obviously still love me.”
He dismisses, “Love ain’t got nothing to do with it, love.”
You rebuke, “Love has got everything to do with it.”
He sighs, “In an ideal world maybe.”