A view of what a typical relationship is like. There's always two sides to the story. |
It was always the words. Despite being a writer, I could never find the right thing to say to women. "So what is her name?" "There is no her and you know it." "There's always a 'her', plus I heard the rumor." "Well this time you and the rumors are wrong." "Then what is it?" "I just need some time alone." I said turning to my desk to look over some papers. As I shuffled through the documents I came across the picture of the 'her' with long blonde hair just like I like it and a look in her eyes like she would never judge me as I am being judged now. "Time?" she cried. "Yes. I need some time so I can write." "Ah yes. The starving artist needs time to write his magnus opus!" she said with a snicker. "Don't be cruel." I cried out as though it hurt me. Just then a car pulled up. Through the glare of the glass I could see the silhouette of a man smoking a pipe as he made a circle into the driveway. "Who is that?" I asked. "What do you care?" she replied. "I care about you." She paused for a long moment. "But you need time don't you? If that is so then my time is mine now and I can spend it with whomever I please." "Why don't you tell him to leave? We might need a little more time to work this out." "With you it is always about time!" "Just stay a little longer." "And then what?" "And then maybe we can work something out." I said reluctantly already knowing what her answer would be. "Ok. I'll tell him." "Don't worry. You won't regret it." |