Laments of Lovers and Fishermen

Sometimes when you love someone, you have to let them go.

Like a fish.
“I can’t eat you today, sweet fish, but I’ve enjoyed you so much I can’t stand to drop you back into that sweet deep from whence you came… But I must so farewell, my aqueous darling, farewell”.

Something like that, anyway.

But you know, some relationships are doomed. Maybe you got a job offer in another city that you can’t pass up, and the other person can’t leave their university. Or maybe you work abroad and your girlfriend doesn’t have a passport. Or maybe, a third scenario which I can’t be bothered to think of? Rule of threes and all that.

This always plays out one way of three:

Option one:

Both people know the relationship is doomed, and the whole thing goes to shit real quick. You emotionally check out of the relationship early to avoid getting hurt when it inevitably ends. Then you hatefuck eachother and pretend you’re still in love until the relationship’s slow death finally reaches a climax.

Option two:

One person knows the relationship is doomed, but the other person doesn’t really know that it’s doomed. She (or he, but since I’m the writer and because fuck you, she) knows logically that it’s doomed but she doesn’t truly believe it yet. I always told her I was leaving, but she was hoping against hope that I’d stay.  Then one day I disappear. Sorry baby, there’s a big world out there and life don’t wait for no one.

Option three:

Both people know the relationship is doomed, and they accept it. Peacefully. It’s a mutual catch and release. The fish is an honorary fisherman, and she accepts that she must let you go. We enjoy the honeymoon phase of our love without stressing about the future. We live in the moment, here, now, and we save the tears and bitterness for after I’m long gone and one of us is drunk. Until then, our honeymoon continues until that United Airways death knell chimes.

 

Rest in Peace

 

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