Possibilities

In the end

It’s the possibilities

That will kill you.

For each situation comes

With it’s own unique set

And as it changes

Or ends,

So do they.

But that is as simple

As it can get- words.

Living these possibilities

Is difficult and it’s

No secret

That we detest change.

We’re no good

At adjusting.

If it were purely

The possibilities that

Changed, perhaps we’d feel

Okay, average, indifferent.

But they take with them hope,

Of situations that we

Planned for and maybe even

Fell in love with.

We got used to

The possibilities

And we mapped our lives

Around them

And we drew pretty little

Pictures, like the innocents

That we aren’t.

And we hoped.

And when the situation

Changed and our pictures

Were torn to shreds

It was hard.

And we can try to

Piece them back together

But the tears will remain

So we let go.

In search of new ideals

We plan new futures

Around a current set

Of possibilities

But always they are

Compared to the old

And we hate ourselves

For that.

Because the old picture perfect

Is torn and ruined,

Tainted with sadness and despair.

So why on earth

Are our brains still

Making awful comparisons

And telling us that the new

Does not measure up.

The answer lies

In the past, in the fact

That history will repeat.

And this set of possibilities

Is not forever

And one day this picture

Will be broken

And torn.

So the only thing

Left to do is stop.

Stop planning, dreaming,

Live instead.

Because nothing will prepare you,

For a new set of

Possibilities,

For the inevitable.