She’d shot him down again, sweetly but not subtly, still holding tightly to his chain. It’d become an art form.
“I don’t want that either” he thought.
“I thought I did, I think I do, but I really don’t”.
How ironic. How bipolar.
“She’s right but I just can’t feel it, cognitive and emotional forces clashing deep inside me. I want it so much, even though I know it’d be terrible for me. She avoids it at all costs even though it’d be perfect for her”.
“But the damned chain, she won’t let go. My poor damned neck’s rubbed raw”.
“What the hell kind of world is this anyway”?
“Aren’t these roles supposed to be reversed”?
The wind, listening, sighed but said nothing. It’d heard it all before. The moon chuckled then blinked as a raven rode swirling currents, blocking its view.
© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2018; all rights reserved. Please feel free to share with appropriate attribution.
Guillermo Calvo Mahé (a sometime poet) is a writer, political commentator and academic currently residing in the Republic of Colombia although he has primarily lived in the United States of America (of which he is a citizen). Until recently he chaired the political science, government and international relations programs at the Universidad Autónoma de Manizales. He has academic degrees in political science (the Citadel), law (St. John’s University), international legal studies (New York University) and translation studies (the University of Florida’s Center for Latin American Studies). He can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org and much of his writing is available through his blog at http://www.guillermocalvo.com.