Trespassers

“Not everyone has a right to speak into your life”
This quote caught my attention, it also reminded me that not everyone should be left to trespass on your life as they please.
We have power over who gets space in our lives.
People may pass through, but who stays longer than welcome?

There are times in life, when you stop and reflect – The passage of time molds you, your character, perceptions and your ideals.
You change,
you grow,
you are disappointed,
you fall,
you get up,
you learn.
Yes, learning from the experience, the life long stereo types of every person telling you, that Fate has its reasons that will be understood later on in life in retrospect.
We’re chasing after tomorrow, running from an unfinished today.
We’re impatient or rather we wait in a hurry.

I’ve been pondering over:
The weakness of the heart to those we used to love.

We fall in love, sometimes deeply, hurtling at breakneck speed into the euphoria. It becomes our muse, it wakens our every sense.
We react whimsically filling up the moments, creating memories, cramming in every conceivable joy – And without warning, we’re tossed a curve ball that sometimes shatters even the most perfect of enchantments.
Our ‘emotional selves’ seek out reasons so to understand why and how life would punish us this way. The hurt, broken, and tortured souls are the most inspired. We look for numbing mechanism, sometimes turning the injury into something positive, pouring out the hurt, anger into something to contain it, the mindless distraction that sometimes turns into a masterpiece.

We’re created such that we heal.
The aches and hurt dull.
We forget.
We move on … or try to.

And there u find yourself staring once again into the familiar eyes that lovingly gazed at u, in what seems to be a different life time. They linger, a conversation may follow, perhaps even shared smiles. The encounter rocks your boat. Unsettled. Your mind stirs. Rationality says that you should stay away from the flames that incinerated you.

You once shared a bond.
You shared dreams, hopes, aspiration, passion, even lust.
The tangibility impresses itself onto your subconscious.
Despite the torturous hurt that may have followed you find yourself wondering . . . ‘maybe?’

It’s the memory of the beauty, the magic of your encounters with that person… that challenges your rational self. It will whisper in your subconscious.
But do you give in again and again, until it becomes an addiction, a vice that fuels or destroys you?
Sometimes the ‘what if’ concept becomes a means of giving in to hope, sometimes reprogramming the subconscious to identify detriments or rather de-programming ourselves by identifying these things grounds us away from concepts that lead to emotional unsettling of ‘The Self’.