Settling down within myself to find the focus for this entry, I’m struck by how eerily calm I am.

Rather than being presented with the usual blanket of feigned apathy, awkwardly smothering the incessant paranoia that the cynic was right all along, there is simply the peace of indifference.

Perhaps the constant exposure to fear and distress has left me numb, perhaps my innate arrogance has kicked in, perhaps I simply no longer care whether it is my arms he longs to be enveloped in.

The reasons seem as pointless as my previous pain.

Face long held carefully blank now replaced with well known sneer. It slides across my face and leaves me with my self-assurance.

“Inspiration, Aspiration, Evolution, Die”, that silent call; we fight til death.

Cynic smiles wide.

I was wrong all along. His heart was made to be broken.