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Muse, you’re a fickle man. You come in at all hours of the day or night, you don’t care about my feelings, and you treat me like I matter little to you. Are you there when I want you to be? Nope. Do you do what I ask you to? Nope. It’s Baby this and Baby that, but it’s never loving when I need it. This is supposed to be a relationship, right? So why won’t you put in the time to make this work? I’ll sit there, at my computer, waiting on you for hours. You don’t show up and the beautiful music we are supposed to be making together seems forced and off because I’m there all alone. I can’t get away from you though. Every time I think you’ve left and I can do it on my own, you come back and fill my life with stories and poems. Just when I think we’re good and you’re staying, you leave me unexpectedly. You’re a sick man, Muse. I wish I could quit you, but I can’t. Either come back and stay for good, or leave so I can find someone new. What we have is taking a toll on me and I really can’t take it anymore. Tell me what’s it going to be so I can move on.
Sincerely,
A Grumpy Writer
