Tainted love recyled

For those days that glistens with freshly brewed teardrops are the frozen glaciers to my despair. The short twelve days that I have been back in the PNW or the State of WA was a mere slight eye slicer to my heart. At times, the fresh bergemot (Earl Grey) scented tea seeped through my nostrils as well as your absence in my demice.

How did we arrived to something so tenderly raw with putrid untangled closure and where do we start to heal our invisible wounds? Your every void of the flip side of brings me to my fetal position and I desperately wanted to cradle up and be buried in the darkness. The ever essence of our daily routine reminded me of how frazzled and fragmented I truly am most of the time.

Some of my waking hours these images of you would slip into the windows of my mind and my eyes naturally formed a lake of eternal somber. My breath hastens to the idea of how conflicting and contradicting our times together as to the different complexity of our habits.

One would assume that two people knowing each other for over 2 or almost 3 years would take on to each other's likes and habitual routines. As for us, there was not that transition of fluidity and almost every aspect of our jagged and well endowed intense relationship was filled with daily frictions and simply debates on things like "temperature settings" or "placements of mugs and plates"

It was a relentless formation of uneven union of two individuals that clearly have no experience on what "Unconditional Love" means or should mean as a couple over '30s. I suppose the age thing or maturity of the age between the two isn't a focal factor because both of us have tread through some unconventional life challenges and family turmoil as well as traumatic disputes within families. The everlasting bondages with us were possibly due to our lack of emotional support and the cravings our physical touch was obviously a cultural factor of how we were raised.

In spite of how similar or the shared background we seemed to have or had, it was the complete polarized opposition of beliefs and the accordance of love and lust to the dazzling icings of how sexuality works as two souls, not one. The tale of all tail training signs of all red or blood hound red was when I merely tried to remake a dish from your mom's homeland, or your homeland, and of course; I failed due to numerous factors.

The most potent thing I can remember was that you've never even given me an ounce of appreciation for the simple act of "trying" and in the midst of my own charred childhood trauma form my dad's critique was " It's nothing like what my mom would have cooked!"

My breath began to shallow as my mind retracing back to those faithful words and the dimmed orange lighting of your old downtown Portland Apt furiously escaladed me to exhale with a deflated and defeated sigh of the full surrendering side effects of our almost three years of fire fueled and hades of hellish bound of a relationship. Yes, it was a tragic risotto mixture of a coarse barley!

Through the waking hours of us tending to our daily tasks adding to your sensitivity to my scented oil was just enough sand to add abrasiveness to our oil and water mixture of relationship. It was as if even if I did the upkeeps of a seductive girlfriend to give you back rub; it was still not satisfying enough to induce your appreciation of me.

Even with the suddenly drenched aromas of how much our physical affections were along with moments of adoration; we simply drifted to an abyss within the ugly betrayal of what your "one night stand" has inflicted upon my soul, as a stab through my heart.