Box of Relish

I take it back. I take it all back. I am not at all impressed. I become washed over by a feeling of deep disappointment. Every word you've said makes its single echo then empties out of my mind.

Who were you to sing to me optimism and hope? Despair suits me just right and I like it when you are distanced. I fear returning to our meeting place. I fear that you will return when I do, and we will meet to our dismay. We will be damaging and destructive. Even fatal.

The desire to get up and leave. The lack of strength to push you aside and focus on something else. Someone else. There is nothing else... there is no one else who fits the frame. The one and only I've had and lost.