In the end, this is all that matters. Not the children for they are not ours; we are but caretakers first and then caregivers. Hence, when I choose you, I know it is not about this moment marinated in fleeting emotions but the ones yet to come which may be void of what I feel now. I work and oh, how I love to work but my greatest project, the one I would have had the rare privilege of collaborating with God on would be you for I am yet but a project manager who shall someday give account to the greatest client in all of the universe. So, forgive me if I swing like some loose pendulum for I am a man driven by fear all his life. All his life. All this, an attempt to run. The very race that has taught me that man indeed proposes but God laughs because the gods are in the end to be blamed. Ah! Forgive my ramblings. It comes with age. The one that throws you into the abyss of confusion. Yeesh! I feel it. I do. You do too. But smile. This shouldn’t make sense now to you. I should like to stop here lest I lie to you any further for I had stopped telling the truth a while back. Tell me you saw it.
The realization of the self, I think, is that man returns to whence he came: the arms of a woman.
1 comment
Fascinating…