Moonlights and Relationships
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Moonlight slipping into the room from the open window, giving a little glow to the bed. 2 souls on the bed, shattered spirits away from each other, in 2 different galaxies. One is snoring, lying on her side, the other is sitting on the corner of the bed, thinking how to explain that “it’s all over.”
He flips the coin for several times, so it lands on the side he wants. His luck rescues the evil body and blows his ashes with the wind off the bridge. He falls in total muteness. He craves to mix with water, swim on it and change his color.
The light from the glass bumps onto his head, half empty, half full of wine and worthless song lyrics. He looks at the calendar that’s hanging on the wall; he drew a little plane on October 7. That’s the date. Only the little plane is visible, the only thing among the couple photos, anniversary gifts, and the to-do lists.
It’s over, and they both understand that.
There’s a spot you reach when it’s obvious like a cancer patient at the last stages of his illness, like a football team that is losing a game 5–0, like a child that has grown up and is playing in a yard for the last time with his friends without even realizing that it’s their last time. One more trip together, one more expensive meal at a fancy-ass restaurant with the highest prices and no smiles
Among the classic woody design and luxury furniture, there are 2 pairs of abandoned eyes, looking for themselves in the same room, sitting in front of each other. “There’s nothing left to say” kind of silence, and glassy eyes that don’t spark all day. He is checking the time, trying to end that “almost a business meeting” as soon as possible. “Please, just let me drive you home and disappear, just please” ticks inside his head, and an unexplainable half-smile appears on the lips (the one that people who have suffered a heart stroke pull sometimes).
The only communication they have is mutual accusations, and it goes on forever:
“My career is going to hell because of you.”
“You’re the reason for my insomnia.”
“My body has changed because of you.”
“Look at my gray hair! Who do you think is the reason behind this shit?”
Then comes the niceness. You don’t understand the reason why everything is falling apart, and your inner voice makes you do “kind” things, which gives the relationship “a hope.” You both start thinking for a couple of seconds that “perhaps that’s the way to save this, maybe the iceberg that hit our boat was not that great, possibly we are not stranded in the sea and maybe, just maybe material goods can fix something that’s broken inside.”
Then they give each other gifts: red roses and sparkling watches, cameras or new phones. They provide and receive, without adjusting their behavior, without understanding that the train moved and they have been left behind.
It becomes a job, one that you really dislike. One that pays you well but you hate it, without an apparent reason, you hate it with each of your 206 bones. You start to come home late, cheat visibly, do everything wrong to show you are not the right employee. You just want to be fired, because there are no apparent reasons to resign.
The torture of false hope is inevitable if you have no courage to talk about everything directly and without lies. It swallows your soul and leaves your dying heart on the surface of the water.
He walks through the streets; he pets twice as more cats than before, that’s a life rule: “You see a cat — you pet it.” It just helps him to feel a little better than he actually is. It’s like a natural selection; you come to the conclusion that “not every love deserves to be lived.”
It’s less painful when there are no bridges to come back; it’s less depressing to leave the hostage free because that’s the right way of doing the “wrong” things.
Explaining the “why.” Be fair about your thoughts or unfaithful nature; stay honest when highlighting the problems. The sorrow of losing someone you love against the catastrophe of staying in a relationship that hurts and destroys your nature is the most challenging thing you can ever encounter.
