the end

Shakespear once said that the world is a stage, and we are merely actors on it. Something along those lines. For this particular play, the curtain falls, and he and I both take our bows and leave with bittersweet graciousness.

Ironically, the year began with an end. And it happened unannounced, with no cue beforehand. All it took was 2 days of contemplation, and the verdict was reached. Unlike the previous case, this deal was sealed without tantrums or gushes of tears. It wasn't a decision made in the spur of the moment, in the heat of flared tempers. Rather, it resembled the ending of Korean soap dramas. Stricken with cancer, the persona struggles daily while putting on a brave front, but we all know that death is imminent and inevitable; we just don't know exactly when the Grim Reaper will strike. I guess the same could be said of us. The relationship was slowly being poisoned by the lack of time, the weariness of reality, and the differences in character. It's something like a patient hooked onto life support; you choose to take the easy way out by taking off the machine, because you don't want to die a slow and painful death.

I suppose this is for the very best. I won't lie and try to act cool by saying that I'm unaffected. I'm mourning inside, because I know I've tried my very best to make this work. But perhaps I was slowly unable to ignore the incessant nudges in my head. And I know he was getting weary too. I actually kinda understand how he feels. It's like you work almost 12 to 15 hours a day, and when you get back you're really worn out. You have no time to whisper sweet nothingness into the phone, because all you want to do is fall into bed. Yet you feel guilty, because there is someone waiting for you. So you drag yourself out of bed and dial the number, and repeat the same things you say every night mechanically. You can't really be bothered about the answers and you're just too weary to think of new topics to discuss. In fact, you don't even feel like talking, because you're so tired it feels like your brain and organs are slowly shutting down. You love her, but when you're this tired, sometimes you're just not sure anymore.

The reason why I didn't want to begin too quickly was because I feared the end. I've had a terrible experience before this, and boy, did that take time. I really really hate going through this again, but I'll manage better because the circumstances this time are different. We merely fell prey to timing, that's all.

Urgh, I really am not looking forward to explaining this to friends and family. That's actually one of the main reasons I'm writing this - so that whoever who reads this won't accidentally mention him to me again. Save me from more heartbreak please. I need to heal.