hopes and expectations.
Even if the end result isn’t the one originally expected, it still beats not having taken the chance out of fear over the outcome. You can’t guess outright what will happen in the future over a decision you take in the present. There are patterns you might go over, expected results based on any number of factors: because you do this that will happen. Ultimately it happens because any other choice would be a lesser one.
Bells and sirens go off in the back of your mind to serve as warning, and your mind asks that you listen. Much in the same way, however, butterflies in your stomach overshadow everything else, and the heart, as it usually happens, has its way. Some will do it for the rush: the expectancy of what will happen disguised in interest for the meantime. Others will do it to take a chance: to cautiously step over warnings of broken hearts and mended dreams. They are the ones carrying the most risk, but by the same virtue, the most reward.
That first date where everything is perfect and the conversations flow with no prodding or empty silences; that first time when everything surrenders to perfection, when only the moment matters and all other errant thoughts are disposed of easily under the pretext of the here and now. There is a flash, when light caresses her face in a way that you hadn’t seen before, and the soft breeze of the autumn night plays with her hair, evocative, amusing, all leading to the final moment, ending on a perfect kiss.
That is the beginning, without regards to the end, to what might happen in the uncertain future. You take the chance because every other choice becomes a lesser one after that first time. The broken hearts and the mended dreams will return, momentarily or for an indefinite stay, but in that moment when nothing else mattered, when all seemed right and full of everything, you leapt mightily.
Bells and sirens go off in the back of your mind to serve as warning, and your mind asks that you listen. Much in the same way, however, butterflies in your stomach overshadow everything else, and the heart, as it usually happens, has its way. Some will do it for the rush: the expectancy of what will happen disguised in interest for the meantime. Others will do it to take a chance: to cautiously step over warnings of broken hearts and mended dreams. They are the ones carrying the most risk, but by the same virtue, the most reward.
That first date where everything is perfect and the conversations flow with no prodding or empty silences; that first time when everything surrenders to perfection, when only the moment matters and all other errant thoughts are disposed of easily under the pretext of the here and now. There is a flash, when light caresses her face in a way that you hadn’t seen before, and the soft breeze of the autumn night plays with her hair, evocative, amusing, all leading to the final moment, ending on a perfect kiss.
That is the beginning, without regards to the end, to what might happen in the uncertain future. You take the chance because every other choice becomes a lesser one after that first time. The broken hearts and the mended dreams will return, momentarily or for an indefinite stay, but in that moment when nothing else mattered, when all seemed right and full of everything, you leapt mightily.