Falling Out Of Love

I never imagined that falling out of love would be a meandering process of revelations ... so insidious and gently predatory. There's always been this notion that the object of your love would commit some sin so heinous that one would be spontaneously jolted out of love.

It would be so much less painful if one were falling out of love with, say, a lover. To fall out of love with someone so intrinsically linked with your psyche, who not only shaped you from a cellular level, but will continue to shape your life for as long as they live: it is devastating.

So our relationship wasn't perfect from the beginning - which relationship is anyway? So what if "abusive" best describes the tone of it? One must be faithful, loyal and forgiving, yes? What's a relationship without compromise? Don't we all want to be loved in spite of our glorious imperfection?

But the pain ... the pain, the guilt ... such irritation! Shackles! A LIFETIME of it. Some are driven to madness. Some to murder, and many, to drink. Too dramatic? SOMEONE tell me that love isn't dramatic - puh-leeeeese.

So I will cut this "limb" off. I will salvage my life, apply salve to my wounds. Maybe after the nuclear fallout. And nuclear it'll certainly be. There is not one area of my life unaffected, not a single loved one will stand untouched. Simply apocalyptic. Well that's certainly a fitting end isn't it? They'd be so proud I'm being apocalyptic.

After all the tears, the accusation and guilt-hurling is done, what can one do but pick up the pieces of one's life and ... PRANCE YOUR WAY TO HAPPILY EVER AFTER??