Whenever I hit a bump in the road, I turn to my notebook. This is a little story inspired by the fleeting nature of success. One minute you’re confident about your life—so much so that success feels inevitable—in the next, that confidence is pulled from under your feet. Life is hard. But that’s not news to anyone.
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Some days pass unnoticed, others leave their mark. Today will leave a juicy one; first red, then purple, before turning yellow and fading into anonymity. Today was miserable, today felt endless, today hurt. Another opportunity, sunk by the mercilessness of capital.
Stood at the door, flanked by hired suits and muscle, I caught a glimpse. She looked my way, then turned her head and wandered, leaving me with a drawn breath and the view of her sauntering retreat into the crowd. She hides herself in the masses, keeping me guessing and honest. Perhaps if I’d done something different, she would have held that gaze longer. In another life, she might have wandered my way, leaving the crowd behind. Covering her exposed back with my jacket, I’d have taken her home. We could make love on the kitchen floor, eat dinner on the sofa, sleep sealed side-by-side. In the morning, we’d do it all again.
But this isn’t another life, this is my life, and she wandered away—her hips dancing across the room and vanishing between the faceless crowd. Perhaps I’ll see her once more, dressed in silk, adorned with jewels and gold, perfect skin, long hair and absorbing eyes. Or maybe I’ll never see her like that again. Next time, she’ll be stripped back, covering her perfect skin with cotton sweats and freed from the weight of jewels and gold. Perhaps that’s better. I shouldn’t meet Success in all her finery, mingling at some grand event. Once I’ve torn off that dress and those jewels, eaten, slept and gone back for more, what will I see? After all that indulgence, she can only diminish when she strips back to sweats and her favourite hoody.
Yeah, maybe it’s for the best that she wandered away. No good can come from falling for someone like that. Instead, I’ll keep an eye out. I’ll wander myself—to new lands and untouched places. I’ll try things, throw myself into the ring, let the world slap me around once or twice. Maybe then I’ll find her alone, in a crammed café or a downtrodden diner, without her jewels and gold. That’s the Success I want to fall for. She’s the type that I want to take home.
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