I made the most mature choice I could phathom. So why is it that I feel hollow once again? They say maturity comes with age, and maybe that's why I always feel so god damn old. Not to say that I'm the most mature person my age, but it's just that my perspective is my own and in times like the one I'm experiencing now, it's hard not to feel like I'm walking a paper thin line between depression and death. The latter is seeming more and more plausible with the passing days. I can even apply logic to it; the only thing I can be sure of is that one day I will die, and that the older I get, the closer I am to dying. Since I feel so very old, it makes sense to infer that It won't be long now.

On to the story:

Not more than 2 hours ago I delibaretly split paths with a very beautiful, very funny, extremely amazing woman. Although I don't have much history with her, or even know much about her, I feel as though I've just lost my last shot at happiness. It was obvious only to me that the love I felt for her was not mutually shared. When we were together It wasn't uncommon to hear of how good a couple we made. When we were together we laughed, lusted, and lived. When we were together I waited like a puppy for her to smile. But it was that amazing smile that gave it away. Here and there, she would let one of those heavenly expressions turn a little grey in those deep green eyes. That was enough to tell me we weren't on the same cloud.

So I took her aside and asked her if she could see a future for us. After some heart to heart, most of which I had to project, she admitted that she was unsure of what she felt about me. That alone was enough for the both of us to conclude that whatever we had wasn't going to work.

I took the first step, made the suggestion that we re-evaluate our relationship, and came up with the idea that we take a different route. Why? Because I knew that she wasn't ready for a commitment and that if we were to keep up this cherade, it would only keep her from enjoying her adolescent years and, in time, make her harbor an abhorrence for not only myself, but for life in general.

And now it's over. I stamped out my glimmer of hope because the gamble was not in someone else's favor. But I guess that's the mature thing to do; self sacrifice is supposed to be commendable. But by whom? I don't have anything to believe in, let alone anyone to believe in or to believe in me.

What sort of concept is morality if you're the only one to judge what is moral anyway?