This slight grimace, not wholly withheld so that you may notice, although born of my own hopeful, expectant and longing yet frustrated expectations of you not being met, is that same scornful frown of judgement and disdain you see each time I heartlessly, cruelly and self-righteously criticize your very best efforts and attentions. We think less of each other now, though more of our own private ideas of each other, and become tired of our thoughts, blaming each other for our fatigue.
Reciprocal resentment thrives amidst our egoist entitled expectation.
Celebra o llora. Celebrate or moan. 6/3/11 XV
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