It wasn’t as if he didn’t care. Indeed, there were many people and things he loved. And he could remember days when a painful depression cursed his every waking thought. No, it wasn’t that.
A nagging web stretched across his path, more disgusting--intimidating--than limiting. It must be cleared away, lest the fibers smother his existence—the question proving to have no proper answer.
Having lived with fiery passion dictating his actions, his every moment; he feared his life held no more tinder. A widening gulf appeared before him; the expanse between his life, and his purpose, seemed insurmountable. A man may, after all, own loves, yet loose direction.
Perhaps this fearsome abyss was that which drove him out from himself--seeking some resuscitating-bracing breath, something after which to dream--for longing was missing in his living.
1 comment:
i like the phrase "a man may, after all, own loves, yet lose direction"... wonderfully put.
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