Unquiet grave. (Prologue)


It is better to trust and be disappointed once in a while than it is to distrust and be miserable all the time. ~ Abraham Lincoln

As you have gleaned by now, we are dealing with damaged goods. The damages began decades ago, you know. During that age where we revered all adults as the wisest and infallible.

Then I grew up, with the scars and injuries slowly festering, unseen. The period of teen love/infatuation went by with guarded emotions, never understanding why I’d get dumped every time.

Of course those abortive liaisons were like salt poured on the aforementioned injuries. By then I had no idea of what was going on inside and took it for granted.

Soon I’d already finished my schooling period and joined the real world. Now on top of socializing, we have bosses and all manner of clients that are only concerned with how much they can retain.

Somewhere along I dropped my guard, believing I’d found “the one”. For a season everything looked great, even I had a spring in my step. The injuries were even a shadow of a memory. Guess what?

Somehow an idea was born that if I was given a few more scars, I would become a better partner. Mayhaps the plan was to inject a little jealousy, for me to fight for what I had. Or maybe a little insecurity to make me more malleable.

As the saying goes “The best laid plans of mice and men..”

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