The Pendulum

Sometimes it feels as though dreams are all I have to carry through: these breathtaking aspirations that consume my being and carry me day to day, dream to dream. For where's the beauty in life if you can't see the colors, the magic of the simplest things? And what is hope if we have nothing to look forward to, to devote all our time and energy and love to until we finally feel content? We wish for love, we dream of perfection. The littlest kids seem to understand the beauty of dreams, far better than everyone else. Don't they live every day in a dream, in whatever world they choose be in at the moment?

And you grow: you realize that love is nothing without pain, that life is harder than you could imagine. That expectations are rarely met, disappointment stains hope, heartbreak is everywhere and true love is a dream. Friendship is loneliness and love is a struggle.

But dreams sweep us off our feet and out of that blossoms hope, a strange flickering candle that refuses to die. And then love chases us when we resist the most, even though disappointment and pain blankets our willingness to believe. And somehow, despite the frailty of it all, you know that life goes on.