Why, oh why, didn't I bite his cock off when I had a chance, thinks she, looking at me with a mix of hate, disgrace — and love. I'm trying to stay as cold and numb as possible; and it's not too difficult. Been there, done that.
She's smoking at a solid pace of 5 ciggies an hour. Having her fifteenth, meaning we've already been sitting here for 3 hours.
I told her everything she eagerly wanted to hear. That perhaps smoking 40 a day ain't the best way to keep a non-smoker by her side. That being regularly three hours late for meetings ain't the best way to keep a reasonably square guy. And that otherwise she's close to perfect. And I'm sorry; 'cos — to a degree — I am.
She's desperately trying to keep her cool and hide her wetting eyes. I'm walking her off. One more hug, a brief fleeting kiss, a sigh and it's over. Night is closing on me, I'm suffocating; exhausted by the experience, I need to fall asleep to breathe again.
1 comment:
relationships are probably the only thing in the world where you can be certain that they always have a good begining. endings are never good. and sometimes it`s the mere fact that they end that is bad.
Post a Comment