Confused-Shoes

The way it goes, the way it seems, the way it feels, everything suggests that sooner or later there will have to be a massive breakdown. Her heart is not mine and my heart belongs to her. It’s sad when I think of it, and it’s even sadder when I have to actually experience it. Day by day, day by day.

In the end, I’m sure I’d be left alone. I have left women just as women have left me. But in everything I have had so far I knew, to a certain extent, that there was an amount of love, an exclusive, secure kind of love between two people. A love that didnt include third parties or long-standing promises worth years in the making. But tonight I am sad because our breakdown would be unique, so refreshingly unique: that she did not love me. No, she never did.

The way I asked her to. The way I wanted her to.

So I guess I’m setting her free. Her kisses, her embraces, all the smiles and laughter really belonged for someone else. Someone else, someone else, a looming presence, a dreaded existence. She belongs to herself and to her love. What right do I have to force myself inside that already neat arrangement?

Tonight I am mediocre. Sophomoric and sentimental, cliched and irrelevant. My world collapses but it is no big deal. I am no big hero and the world does not weep for the demise of ordinary men.