They say that when confronted with confusions, women tend to ruminate while men tend to distract.

So if that whole tedious exercise is done,
where do they both meet?

What if, one day, she realizes that he actually wasn’t worth it and he realizes too that he shouldn’t have taken her for granted,
what could be done?

He felt it in his chest,
that ugly gnawing that has left a vacuumed emptiness somewhere,
which was lonely,
a painful lonely,
even after he had tried so hard to reason with himself.

How do you appeal to a soul that yearns?
He asked himself.
How do you fill up a void that is tailor fit for one?
How can the mind not convince the heart to just forget,
and move forward?

Women ruminate,
Men distract,

He may have had won a few months of useless distractions,
but he’d lost–
and himself too.

Women ruminate,
Men distract.

In that infinite plane of points and lines and curves and spaces,
where do they both meet?

How he wished they’d still find their tangent.

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