Difficult to Love

In our playpin daytime of dating, friendships and other nonsense, I was wondering about why it’s so easy to get together and leave a year or two after. Other than going against many fundamentals of family formation, friendship purposing, perhaps there’s another angle.

If I had to put one forward, maybe it’s about the difficulty in loving anything. I mean, assuming you still want to find any sort of satisfaction in samsara. But sometimes I think about how exiting samsara is a challenge of love — isn’t that one of the “paths” so whispered between halls?

Nowadays it’s about how easy you are to love. And thus the easier it is the easier it’ll break away then.

When I was younger I found it quite easy to make friends. You were a superstar too, weren’t you?

In reflection the reason why is because I never shared anything. When you become a blank canvas you can fit into any role, and the quieter you seem the more the other can grab the cape, latched epaulettes, and out by the pavilion suggest the wonderful weather hearkens to their second season childhood, and they’ll let you in more, until you aren’t sure why you’re personally invited to the resorts.

Don’t cause any trouble.

Don’t be a burden.

Don’t take more than you’re given.

All to find yourself surrounded by people who will make you feel alone, and though that may be an inevitable samsara blessing, perhaps one could take another path, a little more winding and wandering, and sure there are limits to all patience, some barriers and expectations to remain unbroken.

But if you don’t feel the quills, and you won’t bleed, won’t sacrifice anything less, can you really be surprised?

Only in the difficulties and strain can you demonstrate your end of the agreement.

Instead of something convenient.