How could you do that?

It rings and rings so many times he considers picking it up. His time on this earth is limited so is yours. We all want to do better things in life. Achieve more and leap upon the bright side of day.  But most of us live masochistically rather than joyfully.

He is interjected by a phone call.

“Hey baby how you are doing,” she said.

His response, “My heart is broken.  You left me for another woman and now I’m yearning to find my self in this dreadful blog post. I’m pretty sure nobody will read. I’m doing fine.”

His cynicism took new heights.

He hung the phone up before he could say anything he knew he would regret.

None the less he’s sorry to be venting to you guys like this. But as a writer, what is he to do when he’s put into a situation where the woman he loves finds herself in the hands of other women.  He just can’t seem to wish these things away.

Should he change his thoughts like Wayne Dyer?” then publish a book about his heartbreak.

Or dilute himself in the ideologies of quick pleasures and late night loving making.

He often wonders, what bloggers do when pain strikes their heart? When teachers of self help or spirituality can’t seem to keep it together?

Should he seek refuge in empty bottles of anti-prohibitions? And possibly intoxicated his mind with illegal substances? Or find other ways to shift his emotional gauge.

He closes his eyes. Lids melt over possible tears. His lips quiver like the heart of a broken soul. His lungs inhale the intoxication of moon shine. He’s chosen to take a different route.