"Love is for fools," is what I used to say in the days before I met Arthur. A misguided journey that leads one not to happiness, but instead to the fractured life that comes as a consequence of irrational emotions. It seemed that those in love dropped all their pretenses and gave up the principles they held dear; right down to those most profound morals that guided them in the darkest times. For a brief moment, they entered an alternate universe where stark reality became a world of lollipops and sugar-coated smiles. Never did I meet anyone in love that didn't regret it later.

Arthur changed that for me. In him, I saw rationality take form. He refused to let go of his principles no matter how the wind blew. For him, morality and correct decisions were paramount. He would turn away anyone that tried to sway him otherwise. He was a rock. I just knew we were meant to be together from the first time we met and I spoke about the intricacies of stellar material. I knew his perspective was mathematic, built on things that were concrete, and I was taken by him at once.

In the beginning, I thought about Arthur day and night. I even saw him in my dreams, staring back at me with that same sturdy resoluteness that he always did. I imagined our life together, me taking care of things while he steered the ship. Oh, there was nothing I wouldn't do for my dear Arthur! So I did, devoting as much of my free time as I could to him. I had done this for quite some time when I realized that he never seemed to return the gesture. He was always solid and resolute but never caring. Never once did I see an expression of love on his face. Never once did he ask me what I was doing or how I felt, not that feelings should really matter. But it would have been nice, you know. Maybe, every once in a while it would be nice to listen to our feelings.

After weeks had passed and nothing had changed I lost any positive direction toward him. His plainness had gotten to me, the lack of words had become annoying. His stillness, so inviting in the early days, had come to feel like a pall of judgment, as if he was watching my every move and waiting for me to make a mistake. It took me a while to finally let go, to move on, but one night I glanced over at him on the ledge and made the decision. A tiny tear fell from my left eye before I went to bed. I'd move on now.

r/StoriesToThinkAbout

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