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.