As we grow older, we learn that moments are only fleeting and we treasure them.
We’re so drunk on the desire to own someone, to call them our own, to weave their presence into our lives so intricately that they never leave.
And in our deluded attempts, fail to realize that life in itself is neither constant nor reliable.
Just as the seasons, they come and go. And just as with life, comes death.
We focus so much of our energy and emotions on making things happen the way we want them, the way we fantasize them to be.
We fail to notice how separate the reality is.
Just as separate as all things are.
Just as we are.
I was made never to be captured;
Without a tail to be anchored,
I am a fleeting kite.