le lapin gris

I guess in the end, we just never made each other truly happy - not a momentary gleeful happiness (as we had plenty of that), but a deep-seated happiness that winds its way around your heart and takes root into that fleshy muscle so it can be afford to be still for just a moment.  We never inspired from each other’s lips words such as ‘forever’ and ‘always’ often enough that it became tattooed onto our brains and minds and thoughts and tempers and voices and hands.  He would never say things like, “You are mine,” even though he presumed it by his actions and demands and I whispered this often to myself.

On one of our last nights together, we saw Dinner for Schmucks.  I had to keep from shedding a single tear because I knew if I’d let the floodgates unbar, there would be no stopping all of my sadness from pouring out.  He loved her and even though he was selfish and mean and inconsiderate, his heart was gold for her.  And I knew mine was not so for me.  But I didn’t cry.  He called me heartless in a joking way that made me feel silly.  The irony still resounds.