This is it. The choice I have always been afraid of having to make. It really looks all too easy, all too easy, but really, I am finding it hard. So hard that the pressure builds up and I now have absoutely no idea what to do, whether the one that I choose is even right or wrong, whether what I decide to do today I would regret for the rest of my life.
I am such a wreck.
I’d like to say yes. I’d love to say yes. I’d love her too much not to say yes. Yes.
I can’t imagine anyone else who could possibly compare to her. She’s not perfect, that is clear, I would not even have this dilemma in the first place if she was, but she’s perfect for me. She reads me like a book. She knows how to understand me in all my crap and worthlessness and in all my moods and all my frustrations in ife. I have always looked upon her as the perfect fit in my so incompete life. Clichè, but she completes me, in all aspects of my life.
Anyone in the right sense of mind would tell me she’s such one fine catch (clearly I am not so, can’t even make up my mind on who caught who in the first place, nor have the guts to insist that it was me who caught her, me being the loser and all) and that I would be one-and-a-half crazy to even think of letting her go.
On the aspect of “catch”, she’d make one fine wife. I cannot help but think of things that way anymore because, let’s face it, as what I have said time and time again, no one is definitely getting any younger. I imagine us always at our own house, me working on my laptop some new shirt design or artwork, she cozied up with a book beside me, and our two kids playing in a little sandbox that we bulit together. I don’t think I would have it any other way. I can’t imagine having it any other way.
She inspires me in everything I do, in everything that I make; she is my muse. And I think that we’l make far more grandiose art together than each of us to his and her own.
On the other hand, our current situation makes me think twice. Thrice. Countless times.
Should I allow myself to be selfish about it? She’s tired and I can tell, this is not the first time. She’s lonely and tired and thinking of me makes her so. Fine, she’s not yet decided on what’s next in her life, but not just because I’m happy with her does it mean that I should drag her into my fantasy. What if she’s meant for something bigger than me? I don’t know. She doesn’t know. But what if?
She drives me wild. She drives me insane. She drives me wildly insane that even those whe are wildly insane would say so. Her mind changes like fickering rice lights. and sometimes it is hard to keep up. Her moods might as well be the price chart for a tech stock, volatile and unpredictable at times. Thinking of living with such a person drives me crazy, and that’s just thinking about it, not even the living part.
We can’t see each other. Our relationship for the most part just has been mostly hellos and goodbyes, see you soons and I miss yous. And then then those exciting times in between.
Well, in reality, fuck it. Damn the times when we are made to choose when there is only but one true choice to make. Damn fate for being herself and damn her own failure of imagination. I vow myself not to be put in this situation again. It’s not really a choice that we are looking for, we are just looking for affirmation of truths that we are denying to accept. For all our own reason, we decide to deny ourselves the randomness and uncertainty of living our lives to the fullest , no matter how short and unpurposeful it may seem to those who don’t really know you any better. I mean, who cares? Who really fucking ever cares? And moreover, what’s the point of it all?!?
So I say yes. Yes. I want to stay.