Totally random -- well, not totally, but it is random-ish -- and written at 2AM in the morning...

Will he ever reach for It? 
It's so close that he could stretch out his arm and take It. 
But he doesn't, and only he knows why. 
Why does he hesitate? With only three small words, he could attain Perfection. 
Yet he doesn't say them; he doesn't take what he wants. 
God, why doesn't he just take what he so desperately wants?--what he needs? 
It's ripping him apart that he won't hold Perfection in his arms; 
that he's knowingly letting It drift away from him. 
But when It's at the very end of his arm's length, he throws himself at it, 
For it was when he realized he was about to lose It, he also realized that It was all he wanted, 
And no amount of anything else could ever fill the void he'd feel if he were to give up on Love. 
He didn't care that he'd be throwing away everything else he had, 
Even if it was only for a CHANCE to have Perfection forever. 
And that was the only concern that had once caused him to hesitate: that once he had It, It wouldn't want him. 
But to have not reached out, and to have been plagued by Uncertainty: the not knowing of It's wishes, 
would have been far worse than if he had leapt--which he had already done, by this point--only to be rejected 
and left with nothing except the knowledge of what It wanted. 
Yet it would seem his earlier skepticisms were unjustified, for when he dove for It, arms out-stretched, 
he was accepted, and embraced in the warmth of Perfection. 
And he couldn't have been happier to have nothing but Love.

last modified Aug 25, 2005 at 23:24

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