I wrote this for Laura Dolgy

I had just been fired, for the first time in my life, and it had been quite distressing. How could I have seen it coming. It was sneaky, distasteful and degrading. I was fired because my sense of humor was not approved by the fellow employees. Because I was told it was for me to change my personality and not for them to accept me. Now I was here, struggling to pay my bills, and the one I love, disliking my new passions.

It had been a great and wonderful year with her, even through the fights and break ups. And I was in love with her, crazy in love with her. There was nothing I could refuse her, and nothing I could do without her. In sorts I guess it was an obsessive love and most would have consider it unhealthy. But it was not the case when I thought of her. When she came in my mind, it was motivation to the fullest. Everything I wanted to do was for her, all my accomplishments and my success, it was all due to her. If I made a great dinner, it was because she deserved to eat well. If I got a good job, it was because she liked the place. If I had an intellectual output, it was because her inspiration was unmistakable. If I took a nice new apartment, it was because she chose it and liked it. For everything good in my life, I found a way to connect it with her.

My failures came when she was gone. I could not concentrate, I could not find a reason to live without her presence, and it was elementary to my function. If somehow we argued and broke up, my whole life would go on hiatus until our reconciliation. And then my reason for living would become a simple hope and feeling that we were meant to get back together. The only reason for not doing away with myself was the mere thought that she would possibly miss me. It was enough for me to pull through until that moment when our lips would touch again.

If somehow our lives would permanently part, no creations or distractions would be successful enough to find a new meaning. Loneliness would overcome passion and motivation would cease to exist. All the sadness in the world would narrow down to my somber. Death would be the first inspiration and the privilege to end pain. And yet she was still with me as the sky bloomed, but I knew she’d never spend the rest of her life with me.