Closet Demons

So many crossroads have brought me to either best or worst parts of life. I am thankful that the twists and turns led me to some of life’s best destinations. But having MC was finding one of the most worthy treasures of my life.

When we started our relationship, we thought that it was just a continuation of our friendship. But slowly we understand that there are doors in our lives that we need to open to each other. There are privacies that we need to disclose to each other.

More than the sharing of our lives, we realized that our relationship is a surrender of some degree of personal freedom.

If the first year of knowing each other was the sweetest of all, with all anticipations blossoming to full potentials, the first year of our official relationship was the most challenging of all.

When the privacy penetrated beyond the walls of our clothes, we started to show the hidden and closeted demons of ourselves. The petty jealousies exploded beyond our control.

We started to seek clarifications of some blind curves of our lifestyle, schedules, and friends. Something that we did not do at the onset of our relationship, muchmore during the stage of our friendship.

MC is always stunning. She is like a flower. But the ones that refuses to surrender her glory to age, time, and seasons. She is the head turner and crowd magnet. She is truly a “trophy” for a man like me.

I began to seek the mantle of authority over her life. She started to rebel against my will. As the “honeymoon” stage of our relationship expired, things got sour and the shouting and yelling started to prevail in the walls of our forged lives.

Standing in the opposite corners of our relationship, we became enemies of the very selves that we dreamt of building together for our children.

For the very first time in more than a year since she gave me her number, she has not text me. For the very first time after eight months since I first step in her apartment, I decided not to visit her.

We let our pride ruled our minds and hearts. We played the deadly game of “Who will text or call first. To hell, I will not!”

The days that we weaned and prevented ourselves from each other turned weeks, and weeks turned month.

Four weeks after our “silent treatment”, I texted her, “Is this relationship going somewhere?”

“We reached a dead end. This is not a good place. But you and I know that we chose to bring this relationship here,” she said.

“Is this worth fighting for?” I asked.

“It is if this will give life. But where we are now is a suicide, and I can’t keep on fighting knowing that I will be in the losing end,” she said.

Apathy prevailed in our communications, thinking either one of us could win this game. But in the game arrogance, both of us became losers.

There were substance in our words. There were push in our hearts. But we never listen neither to our reasons or feelings. That day, we listened to pride, and parted ways.

(Chapter 2 of the series “The Story of Our Lives”)

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