|| Outward Bound

Hardly did I come back from the island that I had to deal with an important loss of an alliance, although itself being a short period of acquaintance, it has certainly left me a great deal to digest. It was the last two days that Ju stayed in Richmond, so we had a final dinner together, just between the two of us, at Mama Cucina.

People are interesting creatures. For some, I have to be persistently inquisitive and ask questions to make out their characters; for others, their own assertiveness saves me the trouble. They can be shy or even modest, but there is a certain something inside the nature of the being that comes out when there is a true connection, that makes them impress effortlessly.

They are both stimulating companies, one is forgiving, for reasons of not having the regrets, not feeling the pressure, not accomplishing the incremntals; the other is anything but forgiving, for reasons of not being content, not staying flat. The middle ground, where I am stuck with, is the worst that I cannot forgive, yet I cannot not forgive. It has been more than about the obvious, 4+ years in one place with moderate advancement, my other attitudes are just becoming more wholesome. I have not allowed myself to be content, yet I have not shown the strength to be determined, and I can't make amends to myself for the pain.

It's a puzzling life. We ate very little, but talked most of the time. She related to many experiences that added to the present, and I came to realise the threads had been very thoughtful. At such a young age, she is very decided and has been executing with great profession. Often times we allow ourselves, or excuse ourselves for the mistakes, to be less grown up in prior years, to be less conforming to the society, to be just different from the rest of the world. I see it is a flaw, or I have to admit that it is a flaw. I have not been wise.

The bar deck by the water side, to hear the sea birds crying out loud, to look at the sunset shedding golden lights on the wooden fence, to drink a cold beer ... I have not forgotten. The busy Italian restaurant by the short pump crossroads, to talk about the incrementals, to look up to the contentious qualities, to save the future with how-s ... I am mortified. And after that, I am left all alone, old alliance all gone, and things repeat on themselves, if my fingers are not moving fast enough.