Sunday, 26 October
Good Morning
Jessicca…
The world
can’t find enough somebody did somebody wrong songs. It’s the flip side of every romance. The trouble with love is its promise weights
too much for human nature to bear. Love
may seem immortal, just not with the same person. It’s a cute trick of the Valentine, guaranteeing
a fool for love is born each day and the weight of human love doubles every few
years.
Love has no
season. There’s a full moon at harvest and
the first kiss slips quickly into a lost embrace. A new awakening begins. There is no going back. You taste the mystery. Nothing ever felt so right. Two lovers are swept away by a glorious current
of desire, need and hope.
It happens
again. Nothing new occurs beneath the
sun and moon. Not now. Not ever.
Not in the course of events between two humans tangled in love. Go trouble yourself with researching love’s
path through song, poem, book and motion picture. Consummation occurs early then sinks from view. The love we now know is never as it once was.
I love you. This is all I have. Is it still good for you… or should I
ask?
You’re
young. You’ve been there by now. You know the joy and, probably, you’ve felt
the cold as it slips away. Then the door
shuts, forever. It’s OK. Let it sink in. This is another course of nature, much as the
inevitability of birth and death.
Your life is
given a new chance. Love springs eternal.
Someone new wants to be with you. It’s not a question of good. We adjust to the rules of living. In fact, we may fall in and out of love
within the same marriage. Life has ways
to intervene. The partner we loved at
nineteen is not the same one we love at fifty, despite they’re sharing the same
name. It holds true for you, as
well. Personal growth that is healthy
and rewarding has the potential for trouble in a dynamic relationship.
It’s
true. Change can be a threat. Difficulties must be confronted. Accommodations are made. Despite this effort change can lead to an end. It’s the parting of irreconcilable
differences. Where once there were rose
color glasses there now seems only illness.
You can’t deny the unhappiness. Bitter
words are exchanged. It’s the pain of
losing what you once cherished most. Damn
you!
A broken heart need not be a terminal disease. Sure we spend time stumbling about, appearing
before all in clown makeup – adrift, stranded.
What’s the cure? Stay busy. Be involved with what’s outside you. Change for the better may start slow, almost imperceptible. One day you notice there are pleasant surprises
to the day. Your step lightens. A sunset is shared. Happiness returns but not as before. The joy is more measured, yet worthy. You find love never quite left. It may be recast but it is always there to
share.
Love,
Dad
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