In times of confusion, there’s a feather
We’re like a bunch of birds. We soar through the skies trying to find our home while leaving feathers all around. Little by little new feathers regenerates as we leave old feathers behind in people’s places. Someplace we stay longer than others, someplace we come back to again and again. Eventually, we all hope to find our forever house where our feathers could be used to build a home.
Every day is a new day. We grow, we change and we evolve. Some of us want this change. To become a new man, to learn something new, to be someone new. While there’s another group of us that hates it.
I stopped doing the things I used to do. I am not exactly doing new things but I have perceived things differently than before. There’s a certain concept that I can still understand while I’m not so much into the ideas that I once was into. I’m changing faster than I can recognize myself and the person I’m turning into is not that in love with you.
Isn’t it sad, that we were once all over each other? Now, we’re a thing of the past. It started strong. Sparkly. That feeling everyone in love is chasing. But as soon as the honeymoon period dies down, the truth comes out.
To be empathetic, that was something he was not. He believes in a certain thing and he believes that everyone should do that certain thing. Nobody should be worst den him. No job should be worst than his. To respect what I do, to understand what I do is something he could not because it seemed so similar but yet so different.
“Love is not enough”
“Can you call this love?” He asked.
That rush that we previously had, faded as quickly as it came. The truth came out. To be in a relationship, both parties must make the effort to step in each other’s shoes. To try and understand things from the partner’s perspectives. As things got a little more serious, he got scared. No matter how big the fire initially was, two people need to be working to keep the fire burning. I think mentally, he was not ready but I can’t say that for the truth was not told.
There’s the truth, there’s what you think is the truth. There’s what you want to hear and what it is. To have someone say that they’ll not live without you is such a selfish thing to wish for. Even if it is a lie, I like to believe that is the truth.
But what exactly is the truth? I guess the truth is whatever you choose to believe. The truth is whatever is less painful to you at that point of your life. The truth is maybe, changes aren’t so bad after all.
The truth is, I lost the feather that I left behind and I can’t seem to forget about it. I know I should fly but why can’t I move, and I can’t stop thinking about it. It is long gone and I’m already gone so why do I still harp on it. Oh, maybe it’s because I can’t stop the course of actions that follow from it.
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