Confession

Bernini



Each moment.

Fleeting.

I hunger for your lips, stalking you from this safe distance. I hunger for myself more than you. For something I cannot quite touch.

What lay under our skin that is defined by chemistry? Who is to say that that boy driving the garbage truck, dusty with sweat and work, is not my soul’s silent quest? Or the man who I exchanged sultry looks with in the library? Married. Always, they are married. I wonder why this is...

I do not believe that there is only one person for our soul. One perfect match. If this is true, then I may as well just lay in the ditch and rub dirt in my hair and weep. No one wants to believe that there is only one. We may have fucked it up, playing God in our lives. Playing Zeus to Fate.

Speaking of fate… I say, no. There is no such thing.

But here, in my inner heart… I crave the romance of it. Fate. We make choices… follow the twisting paths of our lives… but Fate has the final say. Treacherous woman. Fate. Careful if you smile at her when married… your ring finger glinting in the bright overhead lights. She might just smite you. You may dream of my red hair while laying next to your wife.

I was happier when I thought that I created my own destiny. Arrogant human. And this might explain my story… but on the other hand, she did me a favor. Life is only rich if you have been poor.

So, back to my heart…

I want to believe in fate. That life unfolds as it should… that we are given choices… each defining our destiny. Was this week one? Last week? This kiss? That lover? Or simply… should I have gone the other way home?

I think Fate has better things to do than clog me in traffic. But, let’s not forget, she is a treacherous woman. Careful. Irony is not something that escapes her.

So. I will secretly go on dreaming little girl thoughts, hoping that this road is leading me somewhere… WONDERFUL…

Tell me, do you believe?

G.