The Tipping Point

When do you say "Enough"?

Many of us endure many things in the name of - ugh, just saying it makes me wince, but - love. But it need not be just about romantic affairs. We put up with many things in our varied relationships with family, friends, colleagues, and the general human race.

We forgive. We give second, third, fourth, almost unlimited chances. We turn a blind eye to the most obvious of deceptions and lies and somehow, deep inside, hope and hope that things will change, that he will change, that "love" is worth fighting for.

But to love is to be human, and to be human is to be fallible and weak.

And while love may start out strong, the erosion of eros starts silently, almost imperceptibly, until the cracks are too visible to ignore and the facade starts to crumble.


I've been an angry, angry man far longer than I care to remember.

And now I'm just tired.


Too exhausted to be sad enough to shed tears at a good-riddance good-bye I had known was inevitable.

Too worn-out to even reflect if I would ever regret the harsh but true words I sent.

Too weary to even worry about regret.


What a surprise.

Something as prosaic as fatigue turns out to be the tipping point.