Is it better to be deliriously, impossibly, gleefully, sunbeamy happy for now but set yourself up for disaster later on, or to remain in a relatively comfortable state of kind-of-okay-ness with life, just living each day with nothing much to look forward to, but with nothing particularly nasty bothering you either?
Something (irrationally) human in me pushes me to take the plunge into happiness, for now, and to hell with the heartbreak later. The mind knows what's best (or it thinks it does) but the heart always wins.
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Evelyn
I close my eyes and imagine the dark hills I would have to cross / to reach you. For I am in love with you / and this is what it is like or what it is like in words.
Carol Ann Duffy
When I grow up, I'd like to be a cream puff. A cream puff with apricots, or even a plain one. Lukewarm at the bakery. In the window.
Jeux d'enfants
No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.
Samuel Beckett