I think we're constantly searching for answers that don't exist yet. That has to be why there's a Magic 8 Ball online. So at the push of a button we can see some predetermined answer, and if we don't like it, we push again.
We push too hard sometimes. We push so we don't fall apart. We push the pieces we want to fit into puzzles they weren't meant for. We push through. We push for. We push ourselves around. We are so consumed with the end, the goal, that we lose sight of all the beautiful things quietly residing in the deepest places of our hearts. Wrapped safely in memories of cigarettes, swimming pools, dry heat.
Some things that are old are dissolving. Some things that are old are going through a metamorphosis we could have predicted had we been paying more attention. And they will grow, they will turn into things more real than we have known. They will be tangible.
We will be patient.
We will submerge ourselves, or perhaps test the water with our fingertips. We'll feel the heat on our faces slowly warm the chill in our hearts.
And it will all be ok.
