you don’t really notice it but after a while, you change. the little things that you used to take pleasure in, they fade. like the taste of coffee: black. or the way cigarettes smell. even just reading a book. the quiet moments leave you and the realization that time goes on shocks.
breath against skin, fingers brushing through hair, the rumble of his chest as he laughed at something funny, the intimate sensations of tongue against lips becomes foreign and the person whom you shared all these little secrets with, they become faded imprints of a smile, a barely remembered joke and before you know it, even those pathetic remnants of them disappear.
when i was a kid, i used to be so terrified of death, because i thought that was the one thing that we lived for. i thought things had a sort of permanency stamped on them. i didn’t realize how little is actually set in stone. and then i thought i “grew up” and things became easier to deal with because the only things that were constant was change. so i kept telling myself that it was OK, because these things that i left or was left for was all in search of a Great Perhaps!
time has a funny way of unravelling these “truths” that we think we’ve arrived at. be it the epiphanies of youth or the experiences of age, we’re stripped bare with each passing day and the quiet moments we used to treasure fade until we notice with a startling revelation that the things we used to hold with such reverence is no longer of the same import.
i don’t know when it happens, or why it does, but people change and i guess i’m beginning to realize that may not be such a bad thing, after all.