“… you smoke the day’s last cigarette, rememberin’ what she said…”

Now we could sit here and say this man has “one–itis”.

But that would be ill–informed.

We could sit here, safe behind our keyboards and monitors, and attack him for his “lack of strength”.

But that would be weaker and more cowardly than he could ever be on his worst day.

We could lie to everyone reading, and ourselves, that he “hasn’t experienced enough” so he still let’s things like that get to him.

But anyone who reads more than a handful of his words would realize how foolhardy and nonsensical a statement that would be.

 

For all of the Truth bandied about in our corner of the ‘net.

For all of the rightly–placed blame.

For all of the accurate accusations:

Sometimes things just don’t work out.

 

There’s no hypergamy at work.

There’s no betrayal.

There’s not even a human failing.

There’s just misfortune.

Poor timing.

Or a bad luck of the draw/different design by God [however you choose to look at it].

 

Thus, ironically, only the wisest, smartest and most experienced of us are left to wonder.

If not hope.

 

 

Ω