fate isn’t cruel. fate is smart, wise, beyond our years. what happens happens for a reason. and when there is no reason, it’s because the reason is too big to understand.
oh, the mind, how it twists itself here, how it weaves around objects, taking them in as it goes, absorbing them as part of itself and continuing like that, transforming endlessly. that’s why you grow “old” … because eventually the weight of the world is too much.
but there is nothing to fear. a lot of those moments you’ve taken in are beautiful. i’ll never forget the beauty of that kiss over Christmas. the way it felt for the other person to really get you. it’s stamped in my memory forever. And though I know our paths won’t cross, and he may not even be who I really think he is, I don’t care. Because what is, is. What we have, we hold. And I have that. And, that’s exactly what I want. A connection.
Yet here I am, at a totally different place, far into the future, with a totally different guy. How did this happen? Life happened, life continued.
There are so many moments with him. He’s a beautiful person. But I can’t get through. He won’t let me, and it’s for no profound reason other than his oblivion. It makes the situation even sadder. My saddest thought: There are so many moments I will never share with him, so many things about myself I’ve said, and they’ve hung in the air, because he hadn’t touched them. I don’t know what he thought at those times. I will never know him. He will never know me. Such a misfortune, it almost makes you want to shake your fist at life, the world, fate. But you can’t. Because at the same time, you know it’s adorable what the holy trio is doing to you: It’s teaching you lessons. To persevere. To love and to try. To find the courage to let go. To remember that not everything works out, but as long as you’ve done your best, you’ve done it all. To help you understand how to deal when your choices don’t pan out. To make you stronger for the next one.
It’s almost like it’s playing with you, fate is. But in truth, it’s not. In its own stoic way, it’s just nudging you, letting you know. Making you aware. Making you love, and giving you a chance to learn to keep loving after it ends. Making you feel, making you alive.
Letting you endure without explanation. The language of silence.
Broken fragments of hopes and dreams and joy. So sweet, so tart, so human. Almost like a myriad missed connections spanning the globe, thick as a flight map.