Failures and Glories

-Freewriting Experiment 1-

-An experiment on simpler writing style, language, and characterization.-

It is rather odd to see you in the doorway of another house, if I am to be honest with you. Well, it is odd for me anyway. To think that you married only a year after our estrangement makes me wonder about the relationship all together, but then, when I look and see into your eyes, I behold a thing we never truly had- happiness.

Of course I like to believe that at least some of our years together were extremely happy, and if not extremely, then at least mildly so. I also like to believe that we were in love for most of those years as well, but I know both of those things- happiness and love- were never really there.

We never laughed and we were always reserved in my conservative upbringing. I was taught never to laugh unless a joke was told, and you simply laughed at everything that happened to me while I was preparing supper. I was taught to never be liberal in my finances, while you simply gallivanted in sprees of purchasing fine linens and provisions. I still think that if you have fifteen salmon taking up the entire cupboard, then you have an extreme fetish or plans to feed a hundred. I also find that if you do desire to have friends over at the house, please ask them to politely be obnoxious and rude outside, for, last I checked, we do have children to take care of. Or at least we did.

The problem was more than our habits. I was caught up in raising a group of three, you were spending time teaching others how to read and we were both bored. Bored of the same routine, bored of seeing the same person every day, and bored of saying those same three words without having them mean anything but an empty and pathetic way of saving hello and goodbye. Every morning we would rise from bed, look at each other, and wonder how we got here. You would always say:

"Good morning. How was your sleep?"

"The same it was the last time you asked me," I would reply-

There lies the root of it! All of our quarrels over whose turn it was to watch the children while the other slept, all constant cleaning of everything as if it were a contaminated fruit, and the awful days of anxiety and the nights of loneliness. It can all be traced back to me.

I tried to force my upbringing on you, and tried so hard to make you into a person you obviously were not and did not want to become. You most likely told me this time and time again, but most likely time and time again I dismissed it as some sort of excuse to not do something. I placed you into the machine my father built, and you simple did not work to produce a result. You were not compatible. Just like my mother was.

I guess that is the flaw the males in my family possess, militarism in every aspect of life. Come to think of it, it is just as daunting to maintain it as it is to live it. It is rather sickening now. To think that I was too busy holding a knife to your throat while you lead a group of youngsters in their lettering. In our most unhappy time together, I proved myself to be a defective person worthy of an early burial. I abused and neglected to aid you in your times of need and the more we were together the more abrasive our relationship became.

Now, to see at you again, I witness my failure and your glory. You escaped me, and thank the Lion's Mane for that.

If I were to tell you that I have changed, do not believe me yet. Perhaps sometime in the future, I will truly be changed and my father's ideals will die with whatever new perspective I gain, but until then, I suppose the best thing for me is to move on. You have already found the best for you, and I pray you continue to find all it is you look for.

Your husband extends his hand to me, and as I take it, I smile and say sincerely:

"Greetings sir, my name is Reepicheep, may I ask what you call yourself?"