There was this man, right, he knew a lot, well, he knew everything: how to fix things, how to break things, all the answers; tucked neatly into his silk-lined pockets with confidence.
There was this woman, okay, she knew nothing, well, she wanted to know nothing. Spend any time with her, and you would see how well she knew how to loose things, how to break things, and how to waste time.
Boy met girl.
And, at the start the man felt good because he knew he could fix the woman. The woman felt good because it felt good to have someone want to fix her. But through the years and over time, no matter how he tried, the man could not fix the woman, and no matter how she tried, the woman, could not help breaking things, and break things she did: plates, windows, garments, will, promises, heart.
And hurt lives on, born from the best of intentions.
9 Comments
i’m with the girl, as long as she didn’t break herself?
So close to home… it’s kind of eerie.
Are you with Ariel?
Peach: she’s always been somewhat broken.
lolostve: i’m sad that this is close to home for you xx.
clarissa: it’s a secret.
What a telling little tale. I think it’s telling for a lot of us, unfortunately.
The line that hit home for me was: “…The woman felt good because it felt good to have someone want to fix her…” I know it well. From one who is never noticed, when she is noticed, it feels so good that she blinds herself to the parts that are so not good.
BTW, you are in my thoughts.
Corina’s got it right.
But also, your tale is refreshing in a way. If we are to believe movies, for example, it’s always the women who are trying to ‘fix’ or change men, isn’t it?
I love how you convey life stories in the space of a few paragraphs.
How do you do that?
I’m with amurin on this one. You have a way of conjuring a whole story with one short, beautiful snapshot of words.
An insightful portrayal of the psychodynamics of a relationship; neat and wise.
I think I met this couple once, when I was on holiday in Bournemouth. Does the bloke have a moustache?
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