You want it so badly, you chase it.
You pray for it. You think about it 24×7.
You decide on what you’d do if you got it.
But in your head you know you won’t get it,
and you’ve already made your peace with it.
And yet, deep down a voice inside tells you to not lose hope.
And then you get it.
That did not just happen. But it did.
It takes you a few minutes, maybe hours,
to realise you actually got it.
Maybe it was good karma showing up or you just got lucky.
Maybe it was fate, maybe it was meant to be.
You love it. You cherish it.
You hold it as close to you as you possibly can.
It’s your possession, your desire personified.
You don’t want to share it with the world.
But fate has something else planned for you.
It is taken from you, your prized possession.
You’re in denial. Crying. Hoping for it to come back.
But it won’t. It wasn’t meant to be.
You slowly let go. Learn to live without it.
You move on. The sun is shining again.
But you see a pretty butterfly fly by.
As beautiful as your prized possession.
You slip. You’re hurt. But you get up.
Dust yourself. Start moving on again.
Maybe this is how it was supposed to be.