Benedick Starts to Write

YES, I write from my real experiences, even if it may seem fiction. (Fixated to the past NO, but it is colorful and good source of morals), and please allow me tell another irrelevant short story.

Within a period of 6 years I saw a lady change into a woman, a boy’s emotion to a man, and see the man’s quest to understand such change not only of the lady but of those around him - in the eyes, you see both were young and free to make mistakes, started happy, at bliss and enjoyed exclusive time together, made an oath, forged promises and bound themselves in love, in its name.

Unfortunately change is inevitable; there was a fork on the road, three of them, the material tying them had wearied, she had affinity to the outdoors, to be sociable and had a growing shell around her. He cut the cord thinking love is enough for them to continue in different ways, ah young loves romantic ideation. Although aware of the shell, he disregarded it knowing there’s a weakness in it, a hole I would not dare tell. She had loved him and he loved her in return, yet equally restraining emotions, never willing which either is mistaken. Then this fork separated both individuals save for this path lead to the same end, a semi-transparent wall served its partition, both value self-control always appearing strong. He then bumped in to her, smiles… “Where are you going”… “That way”… together again.

You see, the shell had grown stronger and livelier, the boy still the same. He knew of the hole it was there, and behold, the lady is reaching maturity, the beauty revolving around the soft core guarded by her shell. You see, this story is not supposed to end well, so let me tell of the great divide, he was quite culturally idealistic and the beauty he had seen, he does not want to defile. As all boys growing with proximity to rebellion and poverty, he was violent, he sough to graduate, she was strong, autonomous, argued paper cannot be eaten, he knew (he thought) she was soft inside. He had to say farewell, she tried to stop him, she offered everything to him but he would not move, beauty was not for the taking, the future cannot be won then but tomorrow. Devastated she cried and cried and cried almost endlessly. Love now was put to the ultimate test, the breaking of the bond. The shell had now matured in time for the coming fork, the lady is changing more of what the boy less wanted.

You see, that makes me an evil man. I did mention of a third fork, but first let us see what the boy saw, the refined lady had grown different from what he expected at least from his point of view, she was more feminine, she truly was aware of what makes her a woman, this confuses her lover, “WHY and HOW” he asked, she gave him no answer other than “IM SORRY” at the revelation that they weren’t meant to be.

So comes the third fork his fair share of tears had already been shed, he loved her still, to his astonishment they’ve met again, he find her devastated, crying and the hole he knew all to well, it was there , and LO it’s not what he left it to be. And its dark, raining, in chaos “what have I done” he wrapped her in his arms hoping to calm the storm within her. He opened himself to her; he broke out of his ideations, he was no longer a cultural man instead he showered her with all of what makes him, him. She smiled at last and become vibrant again the shell mend, they weren’t meant to be, she bid her last farewell. And he cried his infinite tears.

He bathed in flesh; he tasted what living today tasted, he indulges in everything not him… So starts his quest to understand where’d all had gone wrong, in him.

[from the STORY MAN blog entry]