The flame ignites, flickers brightly for a fraction of a second, and dies. The ending is not slow and painful. It is swift, but expected. Love lost before love becomes love.
All that remains are the brief moments we fell into place. The rest is smoke from a smothered candle. I open the window and the breeze clears it away. Romanticism killed by light of day and the noise of passing traffic. In a strange, yet familiar way, reality is a welcome and comforting friend. There is no anger, there is no surprise. Just a feeling of déjà vu.
Routine sneaks in and takes over. It all happens far too quickly and with every passing of the tide the waters become shallower. Some people are not made for relationships. Hopeful fools. Hopeless romantics. Yet they move on and never stop trying ... caught in an infinite loop ...
∞
3 comments:
Razors pain you; Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful; Nooses give;
Gas smells awful; You might as well live.
Quite a lovely nursery rhyme ...
Dorothy Parker, Resumé, actually.
If you ever need a pithy retort Dorothy brings the pith.
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