Curiosity killed the cat.

Sadly, I am the killer.

Inadvertently, I killed the cat.

Sigh.

Remember when I ranted about me not being Superman? Yes, I am never a superhero in people's lives - let alone my woman's - but I never expected myself to be this worse an asshole.

Do you know how it actually feels like when you thought everything has become settled, then all of a sudden you find out something that your loved one didn't just take time telling you?

I was that 'loved one'.


Yes, I was a bonehead before; I never took women's feelings seriously. If I wanted not to make my presence felt in any way, then my girl would have to wait. If I chose to sleep at any time without informing her, then she would have to inquire about my whereabouts to my friends. That's how much of an asshole I had been - headstrong, insensitive and naive.

However, maturity and time made me a better person at the slightest way, and I realized in no time I was compromising my so-called 'standards' for the love and joy of a woman I never thought of falling in love with. Slowly, I started changing the old me: I stopped puffing my ego up like clouds of H Bomb explosions, I started considering other people's emotions and feelings, and most of all I began to possess the sensitivity I have sorely been lacking my whole life.


But then, for years now I still make mistakes subconsciously – I used to be a people's person, with male and female friends everywhere; I'm used to getting close with women and getting quite tactile with the best of them; and I usually forget what are the important information I have to tell my woman. Given, I'm trying my best to become the best lover she can possibly dream of. But my imperfections always shadow my sincerest efforts.

Sigh.

It's not like I am scapegoating; I take all the blame for the mishaps in our relationship. For my errors, I am slowly tearing our relationship apart. As I try to build myself up to be someone deserving of her love, past mistakes that resurface as of late pull me a hundred steps down. It really hurts to know that your gross mistakes might merit a loss of confidence from your loved one. But these statements might as well be the coup-d-grace of all the pain one can actually take in:




“...truth is, I'm already losing the zest I have for our relationship... I'll just force myself to love you again...”


“You can trust someone you don't love.. But you can't love someone you don't trust..”




The statements are true. If the trust is gone, why pursue a relationship for long?


Sigh. This is the start of a rebuilding process. I'm starting to rebuild her empire after the winds of doubts turned her tower of confidence into a thousand shambles. In the process I might incur another series of mistakes brought forth by my immaturities and imperfections, but I know she can understand.

I know all she needs is my help. If I don't help her in helping me become a better person, she might as well let go of me and start her life without an asshole who turns out to be just a face, and nothing more inside of him.

I know.

I killed the cat.

...but I'm trying my best to do this much: Not to take away the curiosity, but to take away the reasons why the cat would think she needs to be curious.


Help me God. I'm on the brink; I'm losing my mind.


And any time from now, I might lose her forever.