She sets her mind to not write about him tonight..
She does not even attempt to point out how agreeable it was seeing him yet again this year…
She does not think to herself: “I wish things were different, I wish things weren’t so complicated”
She does recognize things are what they are: he is what he is (and what he’s always been)- a piece of her heart undoubtedly, and she is what she is- today, a modest pen still but whose ink finally (and thankfully) belongs to some other talented painter…
Sigh…Talk about complicated…


About monakaraoui

Editor by day, journal blogger by night.. View all posts by monakaraoui

2 responses to “Complicated?

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