Sunday, November 20, 2005


Have you ever experienced something, something that bothers you for so long, that the "thing" takes on a life of it's own? You become almost obsessed, and you're certain that it will be your downfall. More important, you're sure it will cause you to lose the one thing you love more than anything you've ever cared about before.

You search for clues and you look for signs. You worry. You cry. You can't sleep. You can't eat. You get headaches. You feel queasy. You scream and yell. You argue. You become angry and irrational. You think, why? Why me? Everything used to be so perfect.

And one morning, you wake up sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. You resolve to never let it bother you again. You force yourself to push the thoughts out of your head. Days pass, and the hurt dissipates. It's still somewhere in the back of your mind now, but it's locked away, only rearing it's ugly head at those times when you're at your loneliest. But even then, it's never as bad as it was in the beginning, and you're better now.

Then, when you least expect it, fate throws you a curve ball. By mere chance, you learn something, and if you had know it all along, you'd never have been bothered in the first place. It's small. It's a word, or a photograph. It's truth. The truth for which you've been aching. And then, you realize it.

I didn't lose what I love after all.

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