I sometimes wonder whether trying to keep - moments, feelings, friends, etc - is one feature that makes us human. A certain greed in having more for tomorrow or being able to enjoy something or someone only if we know that it will be there tomorrow. And by concentrating so much energy on ways to keep, we seem to postpone the intensity of the enjoyment we would feel knowing this is all we are going to get.
This very hour, before the sun has set, before we are told we have to say good-bye. That’s when we have it all.
Are we made for such intensity or our hearts could not take so much, so we have developed a surviving mechanism of postponing. Tomorrow we’ll have a little bit more… And the day after…And we become so used with small doses until we get immune and we wonder why we cannot find love…Is love supposed to be portioned? Sliced neatly to last us a lifetime?
Or allowed in through all our pores, like the summer sun on the first day of holiday…
It's easier said than done. I remember someone telling me once that every person in my life has a role and when that role is done, the person will move on and suddenly be out of my life.
Have I portioned my love when taking this photo? I took the shot as I longed for the feeling I imagine the children have - those summers when everything is possible and the love we feel for each other is not portioned. It’s just there.
Letting go was never my forte even though I respect the power of water in its forever changing forms.
I like to believe that nothing should be static, that relationships should change, just as we should change and discover different ways to enjoy them.
But I am still the little girl in the middle, ready to make the next step, strong enough to lift my foot off the ground but too scared to step on the horizon…. It might reveal eternity…