A BREAK UP MESSAGE

This is the hardest message I have ever had to write. But what else is there to do when, year in, year out, I seem to have put in all the effort, only to get slapped in the face in return?

   You’ve shown but glimpses of passion and hope, only to unleash, interminably, a perennially unwinding spool of pain.

   I’ve tried my best, over all these years. The countless times I have defended you, when all others wouldn’t. Well, enough is enough. Enough has to be enough.

   What are the options, when all the labour seems to flow one way? What’s the point anymore?

   I’ve been psychologically and emotionally maltreated, and I have to conclude that there is no other choice than the decision I have, after much painful deliberation, finally reached.

   We must break up.

   Part of me feels sorry, but then another part of me feels that it is you who should be sorry; that I am being gaslit into feeling an emotion that is not rightfully mine.

   Anyway, for what it’s worth, I am sorry. And I’m sorry that a message that is supposed to be so meaningful has ended up so lacking in eloquence.

   I guess I am also sorry that I am airing this dirty linen in public, online.

   Well, I am a writer after all, and what do writers do if not bare the very depths of their souls, their innards, their viscera?

   So, there it is then. I am breaking up with you.

   This is my break up message.

   Farewell, Tottenham Hotspur FC.