Sometimes life seems to speed by with a speed that I just cannot grasp. Then come along Saturdays and such days when it is too cold to go out and one can curl up uninterrupted with a book and a blanket.
But then what do you do when a book makes you restless, makes you see with even more precise clarity, everything you lack and what the character lacks and sometimes has more of things you wish you had
Even if the book deals with sexual persuasions other than your own. Aren’t we all the same? One man sees the domesticity of the situation and his lover sees only the sex. And you wonder, isn’t this what I see too, while he sees differently?
And then the cozy bed merely seems empty with the words from the book, bringing back the feeling the bed is empty into the bright day, a feeling that only comes out at night when the blanket is snug around you and yet you cannot sleep and the only thing that helps is the thought of a warm body next to you in bed.
Then what do you do? Mope or listen to music or pace restlessly or call people who are happier enjoying their lives of which you are but a small part, dismissed as soon as the call is.
With time and blogging comes a peacefulness and a realization that at times one just needs human company and something is better than nothing. A realization that brings its own wry smile along with it. So is that the reason that we fall into relationships that fulfill neither party and make everyone emptier as they go along?
Or is it the reason behind our desire to make relationships appear stronger and better than they are, for the comfort they bring?
Or maybe it is the reason why we hope and hope and hope of relationships becoming something else, of growing into something you dream of tentatively, because shattered dreams hurt even more than reality at times. So wait with the breath baited and eyes focused, lips ready to smile for that knight in his white Ferrari. Instead you’d find that the monk gave up his Ferrari and you realize that you wanted the Ferrari about as much as the man.


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