i am a shoe.

(note: work of fiction)

when every relationship you enter into always succeeds in failing

one cannot help thinking: is it me that has a problem?

if im going to string a bean for every attempt at a happy lovelife, i would already have made a bunch of rosaries,

prayer beads for the desperate.

i would like to think that im getting better after every failures,

that im learning a lesson from each fall, and rising up to become a better partner.

that i am more patient,

i am more understanding,

i am more willing to exert more effort to making it work.

but somehow, it doesnt seem to be the case.

there is always a snag, an imperfection.

yes i am patient, but i am not sweet.

yes i am understanding, but i do not have enough time.

i am like a child of a perfectionist parent.  i will never live up to the gold standard.

i am the factory defect, always getting pulled from the assembly line.

there is always something wrong.

but then maybe not.

maybe there is nothing that i need to change about me.

like a good pair of shoes,

i cannot be worn with just any kind of clothes,

i only match with certain outfits that one wears only in certain situations.

when flying a kite and eating popsicles.

while picking daisies on a hill.

during full moon nights with Fur Elise playing in the background.

i am a shoe that is waiting for the perfect feet.

for the right clothes.

for the right context.

and when these come.

i will be a smashing hit.