A little time...

We’re here, staring at the clear blue sky, wondering if this is what it is. The view is serene and pure as crystal. Suddenly a feeling runs down our souls, it’s like venom spreading slowly and steadily, marking its presence. As if the devil has shown its existence finally inside us, inflicting pain, tears and jealously. So many emotions, can one really handle it all? Why can’t we be as sorted as the sky is? Know what to do at which moment, choose the option which is the best for us and well make everything simple.  How we wish life could be that easy, predictable and planned. Excitement and adrenaline can be exercised in any other form, but for us, we just wish it was all decided in form of a book, one which we could read and understand like the back of our hands. 

You say you need time. Even when you don’t say it, I can feel the same. You owe yourself this much. Yet you pretend you’re as clear as the sky to make all decisions for us, and start a new book from the scratch with new chapters and developments. But are you actually so sorted yet? Isn’t it too early to think of starting all over again? What about the book you continued writing for so long, the one which was so dear to you that you gave up almost everything for it? Is it justified to leave all that work and determination in the jest of finding something new? If it is inspiration that you desire to complete that final piece, then my friend, I’m always there to guide you through all those roads which can give you that perfect ending. But defying the reality and moving on to write something you’re not even ready for yet is just ruining yourself to an all new level. Maybe it seems the best option, or the only one you have… not exactly, there is one option that you buried somewhere you don’t ever want to reach out to.. an option to not write for awhile.  No, you’re not selling your soul, neither are you inviting darkness to take over. You’re just making life simple and easy.  If you’re afraid you’ll lose me, then that’s where the mistake lies in interpreting everything, especially me. If I’m your inspiration then I’ll make sure I stay here always, no matter how much it takes out of me.

So take your time, close your eyes

I will be here with you

They may be right I may be foolish

But I will wait for you…

Complete your story, and I’ll hope you succeed to write series to the same, and it doesn’t change from its path ever, because this is the story for you, the one you should never give up on. As for me, I would hope to be mentioned somewhere along the lines of the majestic words you spin in it.

We all have a story, a novel which belongs to us. Maybe I haven’t found it yet, and someday when I do, it will be real. Till then I cannot pretend to have got what I wanted, no matter how beautiful this illusion is. At the end of the day, when reality kicks in, this shall not suffice.  I might be wrong, but in your wish to write all over again, I’m nothing but your expectation of how you hoped your unfinished book should have turned out to be. But sometimes we need to realize and make a choice as to we want to achieve a certain something we never could find from our past, or change our present to suit the past needs. If past is what we’re living in still, then there is no a timeline to differentiate what the past was and present is.  If that is where you really belong, then nothing in the universe can change it.

Just do me a favor in this soul searching, to give me that little piece of truth of what we really are. If I am anything, if not something to you, then think about it once again. Am I only an inspiration or a substitute? Or an excuse to escape from the reality you still don’t have the power to face?