To Live for Today and to Love for Tomorrow, is the Wisdom of a Fool

"To live for today, and to love for tomorrow is the wisdom of a fool” sings Tom Jones, from the Naim hi-fi. It is close to midnight, and I am feeling restless. As I leaned back against the soft, pale cushion, of my cream-coloured sofa, I scarf my glass of two month old, probably gone sour Shōchū ,that leaves a awful lingering after taste, but really, in times like these, who cares especially when I need a drink.

The news is out. It is official; you have moved on, you’ve found someone else. I had envisioned great things of us; A promising future, one of love and joy, one of laughter and tears.

Yet I had let this gem slowly slip by me.

When I first heard the “news”, I felt a tinge in my heart. And although, it did hurt, I said to A “Oh it’s nothing” I pretend to be nonchalant because I have pride. While I never really made clear the kind of relationship M and I had shared, I always thought he could one day be there for me.

It wasn’t a platonic relationship neither was it a love relationship. It was one of those vague, unspoken, mutual attraction coupled with friendship. I sung praises, grumbled and complained to friends like a girlfriend would of her significant other. In other words, it was like a companionship.

I had wanted nothing more.

Yet why did I feel the pinch? When it came to the boys in my life, I have always thought of myself as the iron rod ; Long and reliable, steadfast, strong and resilient. The wounds from past relationships have manifested into an iron guard so strong that I can command myself to stop liking someone, I sense may hurt me. If I feel I may cry, I will instruct myself to stop. Period. No looking back.

“It must be the Shōchū” I thought to my self as I wiped a tear gently away from eye. Why did I let such a gem slipped from my fingers? Was it because I always said "We’re good friends" when you asked”? Did I make you wait too long? Did you just grow tired of me?

Why can’t I learn to love again?

The thinking was making my head spin. I reached for my glass and finished the remaining Shōchū. It was already a quarter to one. I lay myself down on the sofa and silently began to weep.

Good Night.