by Sine Qua Non

Is it that easy? To be drawn and then to feign interest. To be uninterested and then to anticipate. To run back again after escaping.

The need to understand the roots of attraction and all the complexities that come with it is an ever-evolving dilemma. The second you are able to put your finger on it, a vast wave crashes on the shore where you stand. It wipes away the marks on the sand. Clean slate. And without moving, you find yourself buried deeper. The ground beneath you moves as the water pulls back to sea. The rest of the world is calm again. But you know, soon, another wave will come crashing down. Brace yourself, roll with the tide, swim against the current, flow, sink, resurface, be glad you didn’t die. That’s the ocean for you, the rest of the world. Out to get the ones who will drown.

But this isn’t about romanticizing the ocean as an image of falling in love. This is about trying to make sense of falling in and out of love.

The point may be that it is pointless to do so. Because things come and go. Feelings fade, people move on, people change. So if you run to another prison cell after escaping from one, if that’s your sense of freedom and comfort, if that prison cell is where you think your heart belongs, then go. Run.

The problem is when another one is running after you to save you from imprisonment. Or to get to that prison cell before you do.

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What am I looking for? A good conversation, real quirks, extraordinary junk, bite-size comforts, strange fascinations, distinct delights, surprises. What comes my way? Everything and more but it passes by and doesn’t stop. I am left on the road, the one that never got picked up.

 

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