It’s August again, mtcheew. Bees of memories sting so hard. I have never been given to the wild imagination about myself falling for the proverbial trap called “one chance”. Not that I’m the most conscious of happenings around me. In fact I’d even prefer the road side one chance because my experience so far is far from it.
I mean August leaves a soured taste in my mouth and a weight on my chest. If you are looking for a Nostradamus who saw everyone else’s tomorrow and was blind to his. Here I am, I never saw it coming. And I shall drink more Boris Jelzin and hope it will help me muster the effrontery to explain my journey so far.
Sometime last August I tied the knot, not because of choice and not necessarily force but it came to pass because our both families felt that we are a good match. A year later I’m yet to see what is good about the match. Ever since I married my wife or what is that her name… yes Angela, I have been swimming in hot water. The damage has been done but the words from the priest haunt me. “Marriage is for better for worse; divorce is not permitted in the bible”. I’m in my late twenties and night has fallen within me already and I feel the emptiness in me. I miss the days when my life was on my palm. Until I hear a siren of hope, I will tell the man in the mirror the ugliness he has become and tell him to count the pieces of his broken heart and see what he has done.

Booked.

This is just the intro

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westgermany:
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