It died today. It died when, after your fourth glass of crimson had begun to match your face, the glass -- so delicately crafted, so fragile -- left your hand to meet the air with a passion that was never mine. Red against white: the stain on the carpet. It had been the only unstained thing in this house, this marriage, this life. And now it was stained too. Then the glass hit the wall. And there it was. Broken: your glass, our life, my world. The little pieces, once smooth, now jagged -- surrounded by our blindness. And as I got the vacuum and you got the stain remover I knew it: This stain was our epitaph.
snippet from The moment of clarity where you realize it's just not worth it anymore -- Final Draft?
The moment of clarity where you realize it's just not worth it anymore -- Final Draft?
It died today. It died when, after your fourth glass of crimson had begun to match your face, the glass -- so delicately crafted, so fragile -- left your hand to meet the air with a passion that was never mine. Red against white: the stain on the carpet. It had been the only unstained thing in this house, this marriage, this life. And now it was stained too. Then the glass hit the wall. And there it was. Broken: your glass, our life, my world. The little pieces, once smooth, now jagged -- surrounded by our blindness. And as I got the vacuum and you got the stain remover I knew it: This stain was our epitaph.
