Dear Miss Maths , ‘m sorry but we need to break up!

I loved you, I truly did. In only the sense that you understand, in black and white. I loved you and that was the end.

But you failed me…. Twice…. Now I can take it nomore.

True it was fun for a while… oh the hours I spent proving that your LHS was the same as your RHS ,though vastly different from a platonic plane!

The various hypothesis, theorems and rules… I still don’t get why some are hypothesis, some theorems and the unfortunate left overs, rules….Of course, you know… please don’t get started on that…!

Only you know the difference between the graphical positions of (10,4) and (4,10). But I used them interchangeably and my life changed as a result…. I ended up in a SSEC instead of SSN!

That was strike one.

Flash forward….. and I missed you, full stop. I yearned to get back to you, to experience your purity once again. To deduce the probability of landing a 6 figure salary in one out of the 195 countries of the world. But you came back with a big fat 0 as the answer, as again you failed me.

Here’s how strike two happened.

“What is the angle between the arms of a clock when the time is 12:20 noon?” the interviewer said?

“A little above 90”, I replied…… “Not exactly”, he said… “although you got your reasoning alright”

It is “108”, you said, while you laid your arms around that guy, smirking at my lack of intelligence and dismissing me as a failure!

 

To hell with you!

I am done. Plain and simple. There is no strike 3. End of note, for all practical purposes.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

 

I have found a girl more suitable to my tastes. Her name is Masters and she is quite accommodating. She thrives, not in black and white, but in the grey. There is no right or wrong with her. She understands that our actions are a result of circumstance.

What’s more, she has the mental balance to know that I cannot ever love her as I loved you. That there would be moments where I would hate her indecisiveness. But she doesn’t judge me for that. Or call me a failure as you did.

I know you understood nothing of what I said. Your bipolar mind cannot handle middle ground.

But I ain’t done yet…… ah Ah! You should have quit reading when I asked you to.

 

For that smirk that you most recently sent my way, I have this final word. Masters is a lot richer than you…. by how much, you go figure!

Booyah……… And goodbye!