It All Fades

certainly a sinister truth, but one from which none of us can run, that the love which one seeks can be so vibrant & so riveting, so supposedly different than all which came before, such that would force one to stop in their tracks, such that one may try & change the whole of their existence to shape that very possibility of a coupling for the lasting of the rest, such that one screams at the top of their lungs as happy as they think they ever could be, such that one runs to tell all their friends, their family, such that one always wonders what the other is doing, such that one begins to make their plans for the rest of their lives (as if now impossible to be alone again), such that the upkeep one once worried over (of the aesthetic value of the body, of the encroaching harsh reality of age & entropy) seems to now matter less as if a chest of gold has been found on the bottom of the ocean, such that one reevaluates their ideas & their beliefs, such that one believes again in the concept of devotion, of commitment, of loyalty, of trust itself--- yet, in a moment’s time (however long that moment may be for one exclusively) it all begins to fade, such that the excitement recedes, such that there is a loss of individuality now replaced by that coupling, now there is only the two, such that everything is now sacrificed for the benefit of perpetuating the dragging life of this lack of interest, such that all the friends & family see a turn, such that the social norms that were abided by now seem to be the most destructive, such that a sadness comes when one begins to wonder where they would be had they not invested half their life into this decrepit thing, such that they believed the hype, such that they believed in the very naïve concept of belief & now suffer the deserved consequence, such that in the eyes of those that have lived together now wither together, such that the hopes & dreams which were never shared to begin with now creep out from under the smothering coupling, such that the individual screams now from within to be free, such that the whole of one’s life can never be gotten back, such that it can never be relieved, such that regardless of every possible regret, death rears its head sooner than later & the choices made in hopes of finding some kind of unison or some kind of something (whatever it was that had been lacking, which one felt that they could fill with another), now it all begins to rub together raw as two sticks which no longer start a fire---petrified & emotionless.