Mark the Second, Mark IV

Another Reena… Another time…

There are some times in everybody’s life when one just wishes to sit down and cross out those little stupidities that steered one to their present place. Little things that perhaps could have been avoided. Little twangs of remorse that should have never been. Little guiding angels that made what was to be, and what was not. Little events whose implications wash on for another forever. Little things. Little never the less.

I have thought about this perhaps even before I started out. But the starting was in a minor incident. A long lost friend, possibly a soul mate. And I re-found her on the internet!

A mark of a scar, long gone, to a momentary tear, if you will. Thoughts that will flood a cloud of desperation of even the worse, or perhaps most often the worse leave the mind in stronger disposition. Life gets steered, shadows away, direction in focus, and all things within reach. A long walk through the causeway, and tired feet seek a seat. A moment of relaxation, and I think…

Things should not have gone the way they did. Or perhaps I should say need not. Yet it wasn’t chance or the lack of it that broke the coin. Perhaps it was my act of bad judgement that day that has pushed me down into a tumble of endless remorse. Yet I did. Quite a little act should I say? After all what is love lost to one that knows no meaning? For all reason, of logic and thought, the path and end bear a hundred fold joys.

Yet a feeling of hopeless guilt. A ghost that haunts the weary of mind. A drift of thought into the grey cemetery of memories past and buried. Guilt. A slow torture, worse than the gravest poisons, wrecking the mind with agonizing pain. Wake up; wake up to a better tomorrow.

Two conflicting persona is more than I can handle. But she thinks I am a hero. Or should I say I think she thinks I’m a hero. I know I am not. Perhaps one may be led to think I was overly sensitive to her. Only that I wasn’t. I did what I did in the belief that it maximized my gains as well. I saw that she stood to gain, but that was just a side. So how fair could it be, now that I have perhaps erred in my judgement of my happiness, while my action has ensured her a joy she did not ask, to call it back and grab away from her what she got meaning me no harm? No. That should not be.

Yet again, what else would one do? Minor glitches on the road I chose. A momentary lapse is just a pebble on the road dotted with the wildest riches. Riches a sight for the weary traveller, a beauty merely by its existence. Riches that may be seen, but from the far, lest they throw around their evil tentacles of leisure and memory.

I have often wondered on the little miracles that make up this life. On the little twists and turns that cascade through a burning hole of a catastrophe. On the innocent breeze that blows innocent twigs into an innocent spark, murdering innocent millions every year… The breeze that brought me to Reena. The breeze that flew me away. The breeze that raised an inferno of nothingness.  

I wanted to talk to her. I have been wanting to, for quite some time now. Since the fateful day gone by a half year and two.  Often times, in the months gone by have I amused myself with thoughts of another go. What more could I lose? Except my pride perhaps?

But I ask myself questions I cannot answer. Even to myself within the secret confines of my thought. Love? Why do you ask me? I have only played it once, and not really won the way I see it!

I spoke to her. Lesser than a few minutes. The hopeless blank when you hold up with too much to say. No, I do not desire her heart. At least not anymore. I have outlived the worth far too long ago. But a reassurance? Then again how would she ever know of the storm that rages within? Of how I still disguise, when all disguise is of no bearing? Of how I still amuse myself with the little shell of myself that I let her see? Of how I shield her from what may…

You tell me it is time I broke it off. Logical, you say. It is better off to get away. To be scorned in the hopeless tryst with the morrow is not worthy enough a test of years past and those yet to come.  It makes sense.

I called her today. I feel stupid. Perhaps I should stop!