One fine day, I woke up and realized something was different. Change had done it’s momentous work, and everything seemed new now, even if only a few things had really fallen into the sphere of it’s impact- the rest remaining untouched in their objective selves, but suddenly new in my eyes. So what had flipped?
As I stepped out of my home, I saw the same daze on everyone else’s face that I had in the mirror that morning. We were all in awe, happy even, yet slightly unnerved as we stood in the aftermath of this transition.
Thankfully, hindsight cleanses all lenses. And now I know what it was that had spun around, our entire world.
Love was gone.
All those songs, films and books disappeared. Nobody spoke of the soulmate each one of us was to inevitably find. No one talked about a prince charming or fair maiden. Nobody pined after unrequited passion.
Now, you wonder, did the world crumble to pieces, or perhaps, non-existence? Did people die of isolation?
Of course not.
Because here’s the thing, love never disappeared. It can’t, I suppose, as long as we’re around. But the ideas and conceptions of it did- for good.
Like a horizon, that you chase and never reach, only to realize it’s not a destination. There will be distance, but there has to be no despair. It’ll be all around you. Dark and silent. Efflorescent with beatific sunshine of dawn. It’s presence touching everything and everyone, intangible , but perceivable.
I look around and I see content faces- anxious, no more, for losing something that was never meant to be possessed. Unshackled from expectations. Free.