Irony. That dreaded word.

Irony 1.
I apply for a transfer which I know is unlikely to materialise.
A man is a small part for this request to move.
We break up the day before I receive the transfer that was not going to happen.
Okay. I can live with that. He was only part of the reason to move. there are many more compelling reasons to move; I made sure of my motives before applying for this transfer.
So what more can happen?
Irony 2
So now, as I am leaving, I find desirable possibilities in one who remains here.

I know that when I leave, this half started, suggested, relationship, ripe with possibilities, will end. The tension that lingered for years, finally had an opportunity to resolve itself.
That possibility evaporates with the move.

What is happening?
Do you ever feel as if fate is taunting you? That you are the plaything of some higher force, that you are being jostled about for someone else's amusement?

Well the test of me is how I bear this.

Irony 3
I guess I must let go of all and begin again in a completely neutral state. With no expectations of anyone or anything. On my own. Let go of the longing.
Alone.
Again.
Naturally.

The upside is that I am alone again. Naturally. Life is uncomplicated - a blank page.