I suppose this is what it feels like to be over thirty and single, watching couples waltz in the park beneath the moonlight, whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears... You feel empty... like instead of just a vast hole within your soul... it's a vacuum, suckign and engulfing everything else in... Seducing even light into it's dark bowels, never to shine again. Why is it that the happiness and love I see shining in the eyes of others never be mine? Am I truly destined to be so barren within? To be Fate's toy... bounced upon a string, have so much within my grasp to suddenly spin out of control, losing it all within a small, short instant... Never to feel the passion make my soul quiver, the tender response of their hand trembling within my own, the silent pleading of their eyes for one more intoxicating embrace... Never to feel their fingers raking through my hair sensually, to shiver as their fingers stroke circles into my back, to tense in surprise at a gentle hand on my should, to feel their words carressing my soul, rather than my flesh... To feel the emotions, so carnel, so raw, like the flesh exposed to the first time to a blade... While the wound sears in pain you can't help but stare at the thick crimson flowing from you in enchanted beauty as the droplet poises and freezes time itself as it tentively begins to fall... Am I never to know these things?

Am I truly just Fate's bobble?

~Alisa