To the woman who is playing the emotional games to her ex. The man left her in 2001.

There should be some pride left in a woman after she has done all the begging of her ex and had her family members involved in convincing the man to take her back. The woman from whom the man permanently walked away. The woman with whom he firmly declined all the relations.

What amazing in this is the supportive blindness of the family for the degrading acts. There is no concern of why things had happened this way to their daughter. This indifferent attitude of the family speaks profoundly of its principles. What miserable in this is the denial level of the woman constantly refusing her irrelevant and wasteful existence in one’s life.  What ignorant in this is the negating of the steady movement of the universe outside the little well in which she resides. What unstable in this is her multiple runaways for delusional relationships fulfilling the instant adrenaline, lust, and artificial affections. What ironic in this is the distorted validations of free-spirited characters for superficial images, and of carefree living for reckless morals.

Needless to state more, get it or not is her limitation.

Ever wonder the picture without her. Imagine a brilliant existence with one who is grounded and has achieving the impossible possibilities of a suffice life. Imagine intellectual conversations beyond the mundane routines. Imagine extraordinary moments in exclusive destinations with an impeccable partner. Imagine ambitious goals spark spontaneously with daily discussions. Imagine joint forces of strong willpowers and well-balanced minds. Imagine lifelong and respectable friendships at times without romances. Imagine many imaginations beyond one’s dreams–A Striking Painting that is rich with notions and lucidities.

Then come these troubling and discourteous calls and messages sweeping through one’s phone. The line is full of tears, depressions, obligations, mortifications, and weaknesses—a dead end. Little does the other line understand the truth—the last 20 years was interesting—yet—the next 20, 30, 40, 50 years, and forever will be domineering. The other line is an ordinary history, trying and just trying, to intrude someone else’s phenomenal voyage. The past is the foundation of one’s life and remains as the history.

Furthermore, on the other line, there is not a slightest sign of remorse; all there is just irrational blaming for many foreseen and preventable mistakes. Furthermore, on the other line, there is fear in facing the trivial shadow; yet, there are no reflections on life—so lost—so hazy, still is and will be. It is uncertain what could be made of this. But then again, the question of self-esteem should be raised as the humiliation she endures upon her pride is undefined.

Needless to state more, get it or not is her limitation.

What stated in here is a share of wisdom one lacks.