Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Things change… I have to accept it. But so suddenly?

Two weeks ago I heard an angel sing. Now I see a sex-idol walk between the rows, letting women tear him to pieces (almost). Does my stomach signal something? Yes. Am I happy? Hard to say.

I hate changes… and that’s all I’m getting these days. My better half, the one who puts up with so much from me, the one who always behaves patiently when I should be slapped a couple of times, is far away, out of sight, out of hearing. The light is not on when I come home. I am cold in bed when I hop in. I do the shopping, I do the cleaning, and the house, as a result, is rather dirty. I don’t fight with Kitty, and she craves it. I don’t cook, because there is no one to cook for. I eat salads, chocolate, yoghurt if starving. The kitchen is a mess. I don’t rush home, because there is no one to rush to. Actually, I thought I was fine up to this moment, but no, I hate it all.

Work is engulfing us. Will it be worth it? I say, yes. I want to be able to take the money and buy the tickets and go anywhere I want, for a day or two.

I am lonely, which fact I am trying to muffle by playing Josh Groban every single minute. He does work wonders; he even makes me do exercise in the mornings. But only seven days passed, and his charms are paling off.

He will always be an angel for me. But I’m afraid he realized what powers he has, and he uses them. He was perfect only singing; just a voice, standing there, he and a mike, music, and his voice. Shy smiles, modest bows. Now he moves like a sex-machine; he lies to women, holds their hands, lets them believe they are special, for five seconds, and then he’s gone. They might be lured into believing, but for me this is not enough.

You had been given something, Josh. You are wasting it, using it for your own purposes, you are revelling in it all, you love them idolizing you. I got no right whatsoever to tell you what to do and how to behave, but I feel this is wrong.

I’ve always hated changes.

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