An ever after?

At this exact moment, I imagined saying yes. Then I saw my life with you. The messy house we might own. The messy car that might be the triggering factor for most of our fights. And in the same car where we will do more than just a kiss to make up. (More being you giving me full ownership of the car on weekends. And then some.)

Then I envision seeing you on most mornings to come and I quietly ponder to myself, wouldn’t I want to wake up alone again like I used to and embrace the greatness of solitude, in which I have always relish.

But when I visualized you next to me on our messy bed and I’m lying there knowing very much that our cat is again peeing on the carpet, I felt relief flooding over me. I realized I won’t need to wash that carpet alone or even at all. You are there. For better and, if I dare hope, for far worse scenarios than just a pee-drenched carpet.

Before I hit the bed tonight, I think I am quite alright with the picture painted.

Dear friends, all forms of socializing that may result in the use of plastic being swiped and my trembling hands forming an illegible scrawl, otherwise known as my signature, on a piece of seemingly innocent (God damn it they’re not) piece of paper, otherwise known as a receipt, will have to take a backseat for now as I attempt to rid myself of all forms of debt i.e. educational, car, credit etc in the next 6 months. Hence, by having it on black and white and publishing it on the World Wide Web (not a very wise move, I just realized, a little too late) I will, as humanely possible, try to avoid any unnecessary purchases till the above objective is met.

Prayers will be very much appreciated and any doubts of my achieving the above mission will be promptly disregarded with my Jimmy Choo’s inspired heels on your arse. (These heels may not be as comfortable as the real ones, but put them next to the real deal, you hardly see the difference. Except that the label on the insides read, “Jimmus Choos”.)

And now my bitter hands...

Was spring cleaning the hard disk and I came across a forgotten track. I remembered the road trip I took with a friend while the sheer loudness and astound music of this track vibrated the windows in the car. We were silent for the next 6 minutes as we listen to Vedder melodiously displaying his god damn amazing raw emotions on his sleeves. I remembered thinking then, only a broken heart could write lyrics as such. And today, I stand by my words.

I know someday you’ll have a beautiful life
I know you’ll be a sun in somebody else’s sky.
But why, why, why can’t it be, why can’t it be, mine?
(Black, Pearl Jam)

No, I do not have a broken heart. Mine is never in place long enough for anyone to shatter.

No one, except me, that is.