The last time I wrote about you, I don’t think anyone understood what the words meant, or what you meant.
It’s possible I didn’t understand any of it either. You always weighed us out in destiny. Like we were a destiny too less to be called enough, or a misfortune of some sort. A part of me entertains that argument. No part of me ever accepts it though.
You know what they say about intelligence. It is the ability to entertain a thought without ever feeling driven to believe in it. Like being an atheist and teaching Jewish studies, or being disgusted by mold and scrubbing toilets for a living.
Or maybe , speaking of destiny and crafting its presence in to our story, without ever really believing in such a thing. I suppose that makes me intelligent. I guess down there somewhere I am still quite full of myself, even though the course of my life has cost me many accomplishments I was once proud of. That’s the thing about pride. It is easily lost but also easily restored. A person who prides over his accomplishments might conveniently start priding over his ability to face adversity when the house of cards comes tumbling down.
Ahh, maybe I am being too hard on myself. I like to, because it hurts me. All that self loathing. It is good that I hear hate from within. You just can’t keep on hearing to a lie when someone else already told you the truth. I suppose you were eventually going to tell me. But I found out myself, and I am not very sorry for being my impatient self.
You expected little of me, but I was a step ahead and did not ever have an ending in sight. Maybe because I never submerged my thoughts on to the road that lead to you. My mind prevailed. I am not sure I am happy that it did, but I am content.
I guess this where the story of our destiny is “destined” to end… Except of course, unlike you I believe the only higher power involved in this tragic plot is my free will. When you have walked away from me long enough, you will also believe the same things, except you won’t be left with anybody around who will listen to it all.
I epitome of my emotions lie in my present, their intensity easily damped down and overwritten as I progress in to my future. But people…Their circuits are long, and complicated. People forget their present, and what their life is in the moment. They remain aloof until they are so far ahead in the future, the longing to love the forgotten ones is the only thing that burns bright inside them for the rest of their lives.
That’s how we are different, and that, my friend, is what our destiny truly is. Not misfortune, not bad choices. Just my unwavering grip on the present, and your ignorant journey in to the future.