Archive for November, 2014

I have been known to have a certain few traits that could be loosely classified by some as being compulsive. As I was thinking about this the other day (yesterday), I realised that a daily ritual of mine very clearly fell in this category. The act of marking an e-mail ‘unread’.

Now surely, many of you might consider this to be a harmless and common act. One that serves to be a rather gentle reminder of tasks that need attending. NO. If you ever have a chance to sneak a glimpse at my open Inbox, look for a mail that’s been marked unread. Do not make the rookie mistake of assuming it to be “just a mail”, for it’s a part of my soul, stripped away from my being in the harshest of ways.

There will be some who can empathize with the agony of my curse. One of my life’s few goals, along with happiness, friends & world peace, is to have an inbox with no unread mails. And this is a goal I willingly push away on a daily basis, all for the sake of those around me. I guess in a way you could perceive this as one of the highest privileges a man (and very rarely a woman) can receive from me. The gift of making the depths of my consciousness vulnerable to your words. The privilege of letting you consume a good portion of my peace.

However, there’s the darker side to it. There’s only so much a man can take; which is when the pressure and pain will make me despise you for it. So if some day you find me looking at you with nothing but wrath and disgust for no apparent reason, think back. Think back to the distant day you asked something of me in an email… and never heard back. Know that it kills me.
Every. Single. Day.

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