I sit at a table for two, newspaper in hand and coffee on coaster.
There was once a smiling, beautiful face before me, but after a long time of loving and commitment, she has moved on to better things.
She has moved on from this simply set dinner table with plastic silverware and paper plates. She has moved on to a much fancier, more exquisite setting leaving me to wonder whether or not the past year if these cheap utensils I've laid out sufficed
I sit here with the newspaper in hand and coffee on coaster, shedding no tears as most would do in my "horrible" position
Tears only come in times of sadness, this is a time of repetition. A time where there have been other beautiful faces in the past, and there will be more in the future!
But none like hers.
No face will be so perfectly curved, no smile so bright. There will be no true happiness, no equivalent to the joy she had brought.
So why did I let her go? Possibly because I know the simple, dark, horrible truth of all this. The truth behind the plastic lined silverware and the pure unhappiness.
I am not good enough.
In other words, every queen deserves a king and I am nothing more than a peasant. I will become nothing more than a peasant who can only dream to be equal to the harmony and perfection that is my one true love
That was my one true love
The thing is nothing can be done to fix me, no matter how hard I wish and hope.No matter how much I wish to be good enough not for my sake, but for hers. The lesser things in life such as myself or plastic silverware are everyday life to me, but to have her beside me, sharing the same air and walking the same earth, causing me to realize that I will never amount to what she deserves it just.... It fills me with a sickening dissatisfaction
That's all this is. I'm not dissapointed in anyone but myself lately. I never have been. So as I sit in a table meant for two, the same brew we had both once loved now shallow puddles on the floor, newspaper in hand, I feel something I never thought I would.
I remove the plastic silverware, creating a table set for one, my plate before me, such as what possibly is the most defined truth in all this....Repetition can only make someone so happy for so long.
