Written by Jacob Ibrag
I still see her when I close my eyes. We’ll both
be sitting down on her couch in the cold den by the
television and watch old memories play. ‘There were
always more good than bad,’ she would whisper as
her perfect head would rest on my chest. An unpleasant
one would come on the screen and as a gut reaction
I’d reach for the remote to try to fast forward. Then
she’d stop me and ask me to let it play on, ‘can’t forget
what happened, it’s part of us. ’Even as a figment of my
imagination, she manages to make more sense than me.
So I’d let it play, all of it. The fights, the silence, the
makeup sex. After a while, the pattern would remain
and pieces of us would begin to fade. Through love we’d
somehow give birth to hate. I mean, how is that even
possible? How can such a thing exist when two people
would move worlds to make the other smile? It’s because
they won’t. Love only gets you so far until one asks the
other to change who they are. ‘I love you. I love. I. I just
don’t understand how you can’t accept me for who I am.
Am I not enough for us?’ We were enough,
until we simultaneously grew apart.


Painfully familiar.
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This is a beautiful piece of writing. The inner meaning, the depth – it’s wonderful.
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Thank you so much 🙂
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You are welcome.
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Great work! And I have been here before!
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Thanks Seth 🙂
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the fear of the disillusioned newlywed, surrounded by these realities, here manifested in words…can it be escaped?
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