It is true that, and no one will admit, that love is never equal. And in its inequality lies its fragility, for the one who is loved less will one day find love tastes like ashes.
People know your tragedies and they treat you like
you’re not human. Like you’re a three-headed goat. A monster from some other planet. They keep reminding you of your pain.
You see how they look at me? They’re stuck on that person I used to be. They can’t see that old life as just a moment in time that I’ve moved on from. It was a horrible life
I cannot write what I do not know. For this I find that observation and venturing out into the unknown is a more prolific way of spending the my ambiguity of life direction as opposed to sticking with the society norm with just one specific cluster of friends doing the same meandering motions day in and day out. I find that the loneliness that this imparts as thus is somewhat a price I somehow often pay since there are those moments that arise when I am at that verge of immersion with a whole new different set of friends where I feel that I am still looking in.
“I am within and without,” (Nick Carraway, The Great Gatsby) says and I seem to find myself more often, “without”.
There is something to be said about the sheer bliss of reconnecting with an old friend that you haven’t seen in years. The fact that you can just pick up that same sense of comfortability hanging out with each other that you’ve established way back when you were both still different people.
The gratifying thing that just tops the cake is that you find out that your friend has stayed in your life for all the most amazing reasons and yet there are even more things that bring you guys closer together throughout the years of having adventures worlds away from each other
She was consumed by 3 simple things:
drink, despair, loneliness; and 2 more:
youth and beauty