“It’s like whatever happens, there’s an expiration date. It’s expiration dating.” – Carrie Bradshaw, Sex & the City
Sometimes it amazes me how we get to where we are. We flit in and around our emotional labyrinth for what seems like an eternity, desperately trying to find a way to either stop so that we could hang on to what little life we have left, or reach the center so that our efforts would not have been in vain. And then suddenly, out of the blue — or in some cases, literally appearing out of the corner of our eye — along comes a force so great that it sweeps us out of the labyrinth altogether, and into a bed of roses.
But, as is with all roses, this one would not be without its thorns, and when all the cuts we know we will get from them have been weighed and considered, is there any point in keeping this rose? What would be the use of doing something that we know we have to stop, because it could end up having an undesirable effect on others? What is the point of being promised forever when forever ends at the knifepoint of the circumstances of our own lives that cannot be altered, of choices that we ourselves made years ago?
It was never supposed to be Paris. But I wouldn’t be anywhere else for the world right now.