The Tipping Point

I thought Belle was luckier than I am. At least...well she never told me about her life in details...but I could guess that she was somehow prevented from entering this deep, dark, hanging cave that I am in. Thanks to Justin, I guessed. That idiot is, for once, a savior. Now, the table could turn anytime. No, no, as I have said many times, I am not interested in competing with anyone. Belle is a very nice girl. I respect her. Very much. I don't want to compete against her. If she somehow chooses to compete against me (which I doubt would ever happen), I would retreat. Or if I can't retreat, I would stand still. I still think that she deserves everything in the world. She definitely deserves Arthur too, only if he deserves her.

Belle has been fading away from the picture, as time went by. I've been dwelling in a place I love - free from her shadow - even though it wasn't all too easy. But I love it. I couldn't be anywhere else. Belle might love it too. Look, it's a confusing jigsaw puzzle. Belle isn't thinking about it anymore. Yet, from the little light that I can now see, she might be back in that picture. Maybe even without her knowing.

And suddenly here I am trying to balance myself - and the many plates I was supposed to carry - on a knife edge. To make it even more difficult for me, the weights of the plates keep changing with time. I can now imagine myself looking like a sad exhibit at Le Louvre, with my contorted body trying to shift weights here and there on the knife edge. Maybe the almost divine Belle would sit in front of her canvas, watching me while painting. Maybe her latest painting, too, will find its way to the great museum. And she will give it a title: "The Tipping Point". Maybe the painting will somehow be related to Science, Technology and Society - and she will receive awards and excel in her weird major. A major that seems to be created for her. I mean, who in the world does a major in Science, Technology and Society? Belle does. She is too ethical for anything else. But Art, makes excellent excuses.