Totally beats me why we nearly always fail to appreciate that and those that are there when they are. The little things. Maybe we assume they’ll always be there when we done with our circles anyway or think we’ve got some kind of hold over them. Then one day for some reason they exit now we want to talk, love, give back?
Why are we always trying to look for things to fill certain gaps while that, that does is usually closer than your own skin?
Oh blindness of the soul!
Temporary passes of the flesh!
Our foolish pride, ego, selfishness and fears will one day oh too soon drive us to our knees so unforgivably.
That we’d talk, do and say things
Maybe that’s our last and we are left holding our hands high up over our heads wishing for a do over because you can’t bare those being the last things you said
What’s that saying again? A Bird in the Hand is Worth Two in the Bush
How about risks then?
Question perhaps should be, Is what’s there worth this?
That we’d rather hunt than take care of what’s already brought to us because they seem available and responsive anyway. So you can always pick it up right where you think you left hmm?
Then one day for some reason they exit. Will we then want to mend, talk, love, say, give back?
Get a do-over?
May this unfortunate plague by pass us all.
Fold every chapter if you must knowing you regret no single moment.
That if you got the rare chance of a do-over? You’d do it again 1000 times more and several times over more creative because you might not have had the best every day then, but made it count you all sure did.