I was riding a great white horse, galloping across the ocean toward the continent, under the storm, in the night. Behind me, Liam was holding on to my shoulders. The sea spray and heavy rain soaked us from head to toe. The roar of the wind, the rain, and the waves was so loud that I couldn’t make out what Liam was shouting to me. At one point, he turned my head with both hands, and I saw a fire on a beach near a cliff. I changed direction and rode toward it. As we got closer to the shore, I could make out two figures near the fire, and then I heard Liam scream. Slowing down as we arrived, I felt his hands leave my shoulders. He jumped off the horse and ran toward two young women wearing hooded coats, whose faces I couldn’t distinguish despite the campfire’s glow. The one on the left turned and started walking toward a hollow carved into the cliff behind her. She hesitated, then stepped inside—and was immediately trapped as roots grew over the entrance, weaving into a grid that kept h...
Falling out of love is a terrible thing… In the whirlwind of discovery and passion, we shape the other in the image of our dreams and desires. Then time forces them to reclaim their true place… The lines blur, distort, shatter… the colors fade… For a while, we try to adapt, convincing ourselves that their flaws are charming, amusing, endearing quirks. But slowly, the ‘us’ fades, and the ‘I’ regains its strength… The mind takes over, eclipsing the heart. The children we once were become adults again… A phase of tolerance begins—we reason with ourselves, telling ourselves that perfect, everlasting love is just a utopian illusion, that we must accept the little things that bother us and focus on what’s beautiful in them… Positivity, the survival instinct of love, the Then comes the moment when habits take hold. Passive acceptance. Resignation. The other becomes a fixture in our lives, like a piece of furniture… until fatigue and reflection creep in. We begin analyzing everything, qu...
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