Day 3-
This fucking table is a mess, it's covered in the crumbs of some sorry sack of shit's late night breakfast. I watched the old sod stand in a dizzy motion and choose his direction before beginning his strategic fall toward the path home (one assumes).
Why men choose to leave their wits behind them in empty brown liquor bottles is beyond me. I mean I know the deeper answer, the educated answer, but tonight I'm not an educated man, tonight I'm an asshole, tonight I'm the prick who left some poor girl crying on a rattan chair... and for what? because I couldn't bring myself to fuck her.consistently?
She's a pretty enough girl, brilliant red hair that matches her intellect. I've not known such ease in conversation my whole life, well with none except my Mum that is, yes I know what Sigmund would say about that. But my higher brain is off for the night, it's on a long deserved retreat, I wonder if overworked minds resent their keepers? (cont - click the view w/comments button)
Three weeks ago I sat Moira down and gave her "the speech" or some version of the infamous speech that I guess has become a universal tool in the dismantling of amorous hopes. My spin being, that not yet quite legally divorced, it wouldn't be wise for us to date romantically, and being a bit more suburban in nature than I, friendship of course would be the only refuge for us to exist in one anothers' lives at allsafely.
But in truth to lay my hand down, I didn't want to end things with her completely, as I usually do in these cases. And please recognize this as fact that despite the softeners that we "Breakers" offer the "Breakees" "I really want us to be friends" .."I really want us to stay in each others lives, for real" we 99 times out of 100 want nothing to do with that girl/guy after we've finished breaking her/his heart, we just want to walk away feeling as little like a douche bag as we can. And to make a necessary admission I have been on both sides of that equation. But this was the 1 in 100 case, where I wanted Moira in my life, the conversations alone were insightful and challenging she made me question my own logic more often than anyoneever!!! and I hers, I know. We sparred intellectually, and gained insights that one just can't achieve through introspection. Beyond that though her musical taste was impeccable, and while it may seem petty, I did not want to lose her music collection from my borrowing library. So we made our concessions and continued to talk not with the same frequency but often enough. We did things that friends do, we discussed mundane shit that any man who hopes to sleep with a woman would hide from her as though it were a picture of him sleeping on the toilet that his bastard of a flatmate had taken of him ten years before...
Things were great I had the music, the discussion, friendship, and then it began to change. Or no, I can't say that it "changed" from the resolution we had agreed on those weeks before, because I don't think she ever meant her side of it sincerely. In fact I know better, and much the same as I nearly never mean it when I say "I want to remain friends" so do the "breakees" likely suffer the same insincerity when they say they want to remain friends as well, their hidden agendas just happen to ride in the opposite direction, back to, rather than away from, romance.
Her words began to ring a bit differently in my ear, she edited herself, the way a romantic hopeful does, she made statements that seemed more an effort to petition my affection than to vocalize her very own thoughts, and of course she began to react subtly but jealously when I mentioned other social plans, not dates mind you, and I began to feel the urge to hide portions of my life from her, and that's not a friendship, friends withhold for sure at times but this was more than consideration or insecurity, it began to feel like deception and that's just a poison on anyone's mind.
And so I had to sit Moira down again tonight and after confronting her with my suspicions she confirmed the worst. It killed me to have to reassert a heart break like that. I feel like an asshole, I feel like a superficial twat. Perhaps the only redeeming sensation I can hold onto right now is that in examining the loss I feel I haven't until this second cared to mourn her music collection..she had so many imports and bootlegs, but it's a redemptive thought to know that her perspective is what I'll miss most.
The caf is closing, and the little bird behind the counter has dark rimmed glasses, I love dark rimmed glasses hmmm
This fucking table is a mess, it's covered in the crumbs of some sorry sack of shit's late night breakfast. I watched the old sod stand in a dizzy motion and choose his direction before beginning his strategic fall toward the path home (one assumes).
Why men choose to leave their wits behind them in empty brown liquor bottles is beyond me. I mean I know the deeper answer, the educated answer, but tonight I'm not an educated man, tonight I'm an asshole, tonight I'm the prick who left some poor girl crying on a rattan chair... and for what? because I couldn't bring myself to fuck her.consistently?
She's a pretty enough girl, brilliant red hair that matches her intellect. I've not known such ease in conversation my whole life, well with none except my Mum that is, yes I know what Sigmund would say about that. But my higher brain is off for the night, it's on a long deserved retreat, I wonder if overworked minds resent their keepers? (cont - click the view w/comments button)
Three weeks ago I sat Moira down and gave her "the speech" or some version of the infamous speech that I guess has become a universal tool in the dismantling of amorous hopes. My spin being, that not yet quite legally divorced, it wouldn't be wise for us to date romantically, and being a bit more suburban in nature than I, friendship of course would be the only refuge for us to exist in one anothers' lives at allsafely.
But in truth to lay my hand down, I didn't want to end things with her completely, as I usually do in these cases. And please recognize this as fact that despite the softeners that we "Breakers" offer the "Breakees" "I really want us to be friends" .."I really want us to stay in each others lives, for real" we 99 times out of 100 want nothing to do with that girl/guy after we've finished breaking her/his heart, we just want to walk away feeling as little like a douche bag as we can. And to make a necessary admission I have been on both sides of that equation. But this was the 1 in 100 case, where I wanted Moira in my life, the conversations alone were insightful and challenging she made me question my own logic more often than anyoneever!!! and I hers, I know. We sparred intellectually, and gained insights that one just can't achieve through introspection. Beyond that though her musical taste was impeccable, and while it may seem petty, I did not want to lose her music collection from my borrowing library. So we made our concessions and continued to talk not with the same frequency but often enough. We did things that friends do, we discussed mundane shit that any man who hopes to sleep with a woman would hide from her as though it were a picture of him sleeping on the toilet that his bastard of a flatmate had taken of him ten years before...
Things were great I had the music, the discussion, friendship, and then it began to change. Or no, I can't say that it "changed" from the resolution we had agreed on those weeks before, because I don't think she ever meant her side of it sincerely. In fact I know better, and much the same as I nearly never mean it when I say "I want to remain friends" so do the "breakees" likely suffer the same insincerity when they say they want to remain friends as well, their hidden agendas just happen to ride in the opposite direction, back to, rather than away from, romance.
Her words began to ring a bit differently in my ear, she edited herself, the way a romantic hopeful does, she made statements that seemed more an effort to petition my affection than to vocalize her very own thoughts, and of course she began to react subtly but jealously when I mentioned other social plans, not dates mind you, and I began to feel the urge to hide portions of my life from her, and that's not a friendship, friends withhold for sure at times but this was more than consideration or insecurity, it began to feel like deception and that's just a poison on anyone's mind.
And so I had to sit Moira down again tonight and after confronting her with my suspicions she confirmed the worst. It killed me to have to reassert a heart break like that. I feel like an asshole, I feel like a superficial twat. Perhaps the only redeeming sensation I can hold onto right now is that in examining the loss I feel I haven't until this second cared to mourn her music collection..she had so many imports and bootlegs, but it's a redemptive thought to know that her perspective is what I'll miss most.
The caf is closing, and the little bird behind the counter has dark rimmed glasses, I love dark rimmed glasses hmmm
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
Then you shall have the privelage to be the first person i run my line on...
wooots! <3