Habits

Years pass; I grow older. My body is weary and will not dance like it used to. I wonder what became of my dreams of mad adventure. The blood in my veins itches again; I suspect beyond the horizon there is a more colorful land. I wonder if I should not take a break, now, return to the safe land where money grows on steady jobs, the air is clean in your lungs, and the trees aren't planted. Regrouping, and opening the door to another adventure.

When I voice this thought, I get resounding applause. I hear sighs of relief in echo; finally, she is coming to her senses. Doesn't that sound like a reasonable plan? I appreciate the support. But when it comes down to basics, is this not the exact same running and packing up and leaving that I always do? Is this not the restless pacings and dreams of brighter futures and greener grass in which I always indulge?

I used to believe there was a Forever. A forever Love, a forever Home, a forever Life.

Years pass. I am not so sure anymore.