The most blessed things in life

are always the ones that hang from a string.  For the next reaper to come along and snip it straight away from you.   It's always the reverrent things that do this.   The things we assign value to.  The things we hate to see go.    Where is my greedy side, to immediately want to go out and acquire new valuables?  Why do I sit as if divine inspiration will come to my rescue and balance the unbalanced, justify the unjust, in my life?  God won't save me, and I've lost some faith over that too.  This mind-numbing withdrawal can't be the right answer.  But to explain why I do this, in the simplest way I can, is like this: I get so tired of losing what I love, I stop winning (trying to win) it.  The time I spend in these introverted funks I have too much time to grow jaded, too much time to lose what's real for what isn't.  Too much time to know the difference between the truth and the fiction.   Suddenly she's asking me the same questions she's asking him.   Oh now I'm on his level.  At least I know the competition was worthy of deflating my hopes then.   And at a moment's notice, I was to stand at attention and accept the "just friends" middle ground.   Just like that.  On a whim.   On a string.