By Elizabeth Gill
Nothing, really, has been the same since.
A sense of destiny, fate, foreboding even. I am on the edge of my seat.
Nothing, really, has been the same since.
Since I went away to college. Since I got married. Since I had kids.
Nothing, really, has been the same since.
So what was it before? Better? Worse? Or just different?
Nothing, really, has been the same since.
And thank God! Otherwise we’d be stagnant, we’d rot!
Nothing, really, has been the same since.
Does this mean we usually expect things to be the same? And when there is some catastrophe our sense of reality transforms?
Nothing, really, has been the same since.
Spoken by a deposed duchess…a man in love…a defeated athlete…an Oscar-winner.
Nothing, really, has been the same since.
Since you went away. Since time immemorial. Since hell froze over. Since 1492.
Nothing, really, has been the same since.
I think someone is looking for sympathy.
Nothing, really, has been the same since.
So. Effing. What.
Nothing, really, has been the same since.
Maturity ensues. What appears to be an event was actually a belief put into action. Accept responsibility then, now, and in the future.
Nothing, really, has been the same since.
Not all moments are the same. Some strike to the crux, cut to the bone, tear out your heart, give it a good shaking, and slam it back into your chest.
Nothing, really, has been the same since.
Depleted of our illusions, we let the river take us where it will.
Nothing, really, has been the same since.
And I was glad to let go, glad to stop resisting my own happiness.
No comments yet.