Promise Me Nothing.

It’s over.  I’m recovering.  Words haven’t flown through the air for several minutes now.  The debate is over.  The fighting, the persuading, the imploring.  Have we reached a pinnacle? Is it all downhill from here?  A lone smile appears from within the darkness.  “I pinky promise.”  A hand reaches toward mine and a promise is made.  The hand doesn’t understand why I don’t return the gesture.  Promises are a slap in the face.  Merriam-Webster defines a promise as “a statement telling someone that you will definitely do something or that something will definitely happen in the future”.  If I make a promise, I’m going to break it.  You know why?  The very nature of a promise leaves it so vulnerable to being invalidated.  If I knew for a fact I was going to do something, it would already be done.  As soon as I have to assure someone of my dependability, we both know it isn’t going to happen.  Promises portray a definitive end and the end is never certain.

Promise Me Nothing.

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