I came to a sad, sad realization this weekend: sometimes people change, and sometimes people don't change at all, you just stop seeing them through the rose colored glasses you used to. As much as I hate to admit it, I've been known to ignore the glaringly obvious because I just didn't want to see it or deal with it. Due to my firsthand knowledge of the subject, I've written a short story, presented here for your enjoyment:
There are certain people in life that you have a connection with that you just can't explain. No one on the outside really gets it and to try to put it into words would only cheapen what you have. You don't know why or how it happened, but you know better than to question it and to just enjoy the ride. Unfortunately, as with every roller coaster, it always comes to an end sooner than you'd like. Whether because of one person's actions or due to circumstances completely beyond their control, something happens. Usually this something is known as life, which has a funny way of reminding you that, ultimately, you don't call the shots around here. While it's important to have an internal locus of control, there's a certain point where you're essentially fighting fate and no matter what you want, it's just not meant to be.
In this particular instance, though, the end was never the end. Try as they might, neither of them could stay away for good and they knew it, or at least she did. As it turns out, that last part wound up being the final straw for him. Realizing that someone thinks they can come and go as they please and that you'll always be there when they return, regardless of what they do in the meantime, isn't a pleasant feeling. At least, I couldn't imagine it to be one. Fully aware that everything happens for a reason, one would like to believe that if the two of them were to drift apart again it would be because the universe found it funny, not because they were being taken for granted...again.
If a day came, though, when it came to light that life had kept it's hands off this one; that it was all the doing of the other, what would he do? He could sit and wait patiently like usual, only moving on when it became apparent that nothing he could do would be of any use. He could get on with life while keeping an open mind and an open eye for signs that it was time for another go around on the twisted carousel the two of them had built over the years. He could even do his best to forget her name, embarking on the same self-destructive path that has helped men cope for hundreds of years. However, this time, the most attractive option he could come up with was also the most unlike him.
You see, the previously mentioned rose colored glasses weren't the most comfortable things in the world. The shifted around occasionally, offering glimpses of what really stood in front of him. They were heavy as well, and it was weary work some days just to keep his head up because of them. Noticing how smudged they'd become over time, he took them off for a cleaning. Carefully, but forcefully, he rubbed at them with his shirt tail, wishing in vain the dirt would come off. Then something strange happened. He saw how much vivid the world looked without the shade of pink he'd become so accustomed to. Sure, not everything was pleasant anymore, but it was all so clear now. It then occurred to him that this was life. He liked it.
What he did next shocked even himself. He threw the glasses to the ground, and with one swift, decisive stomp of his heel rendered them useless. A thousand razor sharp pieces of glass that would do less harm in this incarnation than their previous one. Taking a deep breath, he sighed. It was one of relief, with a hint of uncertainty. Healthy optimism filled his mind the same way his eyes soaked up the newness of the sky and his lungs enjoyed the suddenly pure air. It was then that he realized that everything truly does happen for a reason and that he was going to be just fine.
As bad of a feeling as his earlier realization was, this was the polar opposite. Or so I'd imagine. After all, this is just a work of fiction, right?
