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The night before the night before

As average as this evening may seem, there is panic lurking beneath the surface. How can life continue so normally, is the world not aware that part of the world has ceased to exist. A major pluck on the heartstrings part of the world. Romance, requited love, just love. All now erased from my heart and the heart of existence. Fake and phony after all. An Impression of the reality of what it takes to step into the arena of commitment.

This I acknowledge knowing that I too stepped away. I too had closed the aorta that surrendered to love. So here is the opportunity. For a whole new story to unveil. But who could not be sad at the loss of a rear formula of love. Of a classical landscape once embellished with a sheltered nook and a picnic, now an asphalted pit stop. Lost of all the archetypal offerings of love, to be benign of expression. Like the culture of love had escaped completely. No catalyst left to offer a tickle to any fancy.

So into the desert of abandoned hearts I wonder. With a thirst so unreasonable I would suck on a rock for validation. But invisible validation is where it is at. If I am to make this transition. To trust the invisible, knowing that completion should be effortless, it should announce itself undeniably and willingly, and that is what I will wait for.

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