when he thought about it, which was not very often, the whole thing seemed surreal to him; how they met, reconnected years later, fell apart. he left it all in a comfortable haze, easily accessible , if he had a fit of nostalgia.
he figured that since he preferred his vivid fantasy life, this was the perfect resolution.
his past few years were filled with tangible, palpable loss. of people who had impacted on him
deeply, perhaps who were even partly responsible for the undeveloped, twisted nature of his soul. the rest, (as all of us who are at least partly adult know) is up to us. this is what eluded him.
it was as if he were waiting for the proverbial magic wand, which never seemed to wander his way. to sit passively, hoping that somehow things would transpire and lead him...
he waits
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