Red is not one of my fave colours; or, at least, not until a minute or so ago.
I’ve realised that in my universe of strange meaning, allegory and metaphor that the colour in question can indeed signify a fail male. But now I also realise it can just as easily equal a red male: and in all the terms this could suggest, good and bad.
And so I decide forthwith that I shall take red to mean red male, but of the respectful nature I have always striven to live by.
No longer shall I sit next to my life and weep.
But neither shall I commit the error of waiting for a woman who clearly can neither communicate what she wants – or, alternatively, is choosing to all too gently say: “Back off!”
There are moments we must know how to drive as the red males we would like to be known as, and there are moments – above all – when respect is everything.
Keep in mind, however, that not only must we respect the dignity and integrity of others: it is just as important to respect and value our own.
This is just to communicate I have recovered from two unrequited loves in as many months: the first led to an eleven-year depression; the second to a foolish two-month infatuation.
And I am sorry for all three parties – myself included.
But there it is.
There it is done.
And there we may move safely on. In friendship, if all three wish. And in fond memory, if not.