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~BIG CROWD AT THE CRAZY HOUSE
LONG QUEUE FOR THE JOKER'S SHOES
TEN ROUNDS IN THE RING WITH LOVE...
Do you lose and win, or win and lose?...
...Don't you sometimes wish your heart was made of stone?
Mercy, mercy, wish your heart was a heart of stone~
He stared at his cellphone for he could not even remember how long. He, as ever, was aware of his son playing in the background.
He had finally did it. He had finally made the phone call. The one he had been putting off for... how long now? He had moved out two weeks ago. He should have done so two years ago.
He turned in his chair and peered out the window. The ice-blue eyes barely comprehending the trees and lawn he seen through it.
So, this was the beginning of the end.
They had lived separately in the same home for basically three years. They had stopped being intimate for two. His son, just turning five, could sense the change in the household, but like his father said nothing.
Tears were threatening to come. Such an unexpected thing.
For whatever reason he felt as if was broken, even though he was the one who had laid the cards on the table, finally packed and left. He loved her. He did... but it was like separating from a close friend for what he assumed would be forever. He supposed that was why it hurt.
Two weeks, and he would see the lawyer. Two weeks and it all would start.
His son came to him then, running with tears in his eyes with a broken truck in his hand. "Can you fix it?" he asked handing it to him.
He looked it over, seeing it was just a simple need to fit the dislodged part of the toy back into its slot. He did it and handed it back. The boy ran off to continue his play.
Thranduil looked towards the window again, and seen a reflection of himself. No, whatever came from all of this, if there was some sort of dispute along the way, as he was sure there would be, he could handle it. He had seen the horrors of war. Been in fights enough. Watched both of his parents fight and lose illnesses to their deaths. Fought his way from the gutters of this city to the top of the corporate ladder.
He would have to make it on his own, and with his son. Both battles in themselves. After all, they had been together for so long, that it was hard to think of things as "by himself", and he knew she would fight him to have sole custody for no reason whatsoever other than to jab and twist a knife in his back.
That was what he knew would hurt the most.
Yes, he felt broken now, truthfully, feeling like he was being pulled to his knees to submit, and give up. Reasons beyond emotional attachment to what once was and having to grasp an unknown future, causing it. But he would get up again.
His son was one reason, the main reason, the other was the reflection he seen staring back at him in the window. He was a fighter, and though weary, perhaps for fighting a different battle with her for so long, he knew he would pick up himself up and carry on.
He was strong. He could take it. He would win even though he was alone now. He would win this battle within himself and with life itself.
He was going to win this thing called a new life.
~This is not the end
I'm down now, but I'll be standing tall again
Times are hard
But I was built tough
I'm gonna show you what I'm made of
I've been brought down to my knees
And I've been pushed way past the point of breaking
But I can take it
I'll get back, back on my feet
This is far from over
I am far from over
You haven't seen the last of me~