On Cliche

During moments of self doubt, I sometimes wonder if I have become a cliche. The sad, dark and twisted act has been overly portrayed. We got tired of Meredith Grey- she had to become happy.

Today, I am happy. I have been happy, as a matter of fact. It feels like a temporal sense of bliss, foreshadowed to be destroyed by reality anytime soon. They say you can never have too much of a good thing, but I see myself being complacent with my situation once more.

Another G in my life. this time, Gary. He is wonderfully complete without a wife or long term partner in tow.  He is, however, twice my age. What’s new, you say.

For once, I don’t have to prove myself attractive by leading him to bed. For once, I am quite satisfied with us standing together in silence, basking in the afterglow of a fulfilling conversation.

Maybe I won’t be disappointed this time. This is such a dangerous hope to harbour, because it can crush the spirit with twice the potency.