Wednesday, December 10, 2008

If this made me sad, it would be a problem. If I still derived anger and hurt and all those Twilight emotions, then yes, there would be words. The fact that avoidance is the chosen recourse instead is very telling though. It speaks volumes about the things we won't utter out loud for lack of energy. The sleeping dogs have been euthanized. It isn't a slight to the past, as no one would doubt that it was formidable, laced with ideals and their inevitable fall-outs, but the path just kind of died. There was no cliff, no epic Disney battle on a parapet or an African mountain. Just a slow dissolution of gravel into dirt. To continue at this point would be akin to a heroin addict constantly chasing the dragon, the time that it was good. Not a good plan. And as with addiction, there was never any stability here. Not really. A grouping of months here and there, yes. But by and large, we were two separate bodies in anamorphosis whose cells aligned at times in complimentary states of personal evolution. Declarations of who belonged in whose world were largely ignored by me, though I suppose they were ultimately a pretty great forecasting of the storm clouds clearing to a void. Is it too petty to say well done? I certainly never would have called it. I never saw us in perpetuity but I always thought that we had the makings of a massive blowout. I don't come by anger honestly but you bring it out like no other. I assumed there would be a shouting match with words that went so far past healing that neither would dare utter an apology. I've visualized it time and time again, but not lately. Now there's not even sadness. No problem.

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