What do I do with him
now that he is not the apple
of my eyes anymore.
Its not a third party issue,
its just the schizo wishy-washy me
getting tired of the same
old routine week by
week, every year.
Why cant I escape?
For the Nth time
I promised myself itll be the last.
Well, last one for the day as always.
But I guess I need him
as much as I love him
(works vice versa for me as well)
Its more of a mixed
ecological-thingy-relationship:
mutualism, commensalism,
even parasitism at times.
I want more chili,
more curry, more nutmeg;
loads of spice
not only in my relationship
but in my life.
Fate fucks me up now and then,
its fate's definition
of spice for this particular gal.
I need to get out more.
I need to be dined somewhere new.
Jolibuyog and Mcdo isnt
exactly fine dining.
I miss cooking for him.
I have to free up my sked
one of these days.
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