It seems my last relationship had a fuzzy start. We both had trouble defining it as a “relationship” in it’s embryonic stage. Similiar to the United States cryptically labeling the Korean War as a “police action”, we couldn’t commit to being in an actual relationship.
We should have seen that as a foreshadow to the imminent demise of our “relationship”. It ended three and half years later. As horrible as the devastation that was created by the Hiroshima bombing, at least it was one, quick, decisive ending. Using the same analogy, ours was a slow withdrawl. We finally reached a “cease fire” aggreement and decided our 39th Parallel would be 14th Street near Union Square.
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