Just like the previous innumerable times
I make the first move.
After every big argument
Or rather
Everytime I am harangued at
I decide this is it.
No more being pushed around
I will no more be trampled upon
Will not take the insults heaped on me
Lying down
And thus uneasy silence prevails
It is so palpable that you can cut it with knife.
I hope against hope
Maybe he will realise his mistake
Perhaps he will apologise
Or at least offer an olive branch.
But nothing happens.
When days turn to weeks
And the hostile environment at home saps my soul
I swallow my pride
And apologize.
It is as if we had never fought
Every thing is back to normal.
I do remember
Once when an apology was offered
But alas!
One swallow does not the summer make!

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