I've always looked forward to the next turn for something to hold on to. Outlandishly splendid and fulgurant; what about something like love.
How romantic to pretend what surprises may spring upon you around the corner :) Tall, dark and handsome prince charming sweeps me off my feet? With the cutest smile? Someone like Harry Osborne in Spiderman 3 would surely be to die for, even with that radioactive scar. It's exciting thinking about paradise unfolding at the very next moment.
But I found out that the next swerve could also take something away without my letting go. No longer splendid and fulgurant; nothing more than love.
How could it be that the very same things I used to cherish, today I am simply unable to tolerate. There is an indomitable craving for change. Perhaps I refuse to admit that former things bore my fickle mind, yet why do I feel like I've been settling for less far too long? It dawns on me suddenly what better things actually. And then the realization is overbearing. It overrides all previous inclinations, and I struggle to even vaguely recall the way it was. If only I could identify the difference between the past and present, and still appreciate the beauty I left behind. But I can only accept that I am no longer me.
What lies beyond that next turn?
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