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It’s a stillness. You wonder if it’s static or just inertia. Then along comes a force: A force that moves you without warning, without want and yet, it’s exactly what you needed in exactly that moment. It’s in those moments that I believe. It’s those exact moments that make me realize why I have faith, why I’ve ever had faith.

It’s Newton’s first law of motion.

It’s my muse, she’s back and I am her willing slave. For without her I am nothing but stillness; and without me, she has no purpose.

It takes quite a bit now to want more …to risk …anything. Especially when I may not be ready for the reward. Or is it that I’m not ready for the risk? It’s a thin line. A thin, grey, foggy line between risk and reward. In one moment, I’m ready to risk it all and feel THAT freedom again. The one that is like no other. The one that makes you feel like you’re flying and falling at the same time. That total loss, and complete control…

There are loves about which people think the end was inevitable, and you were a fool, like all the others, for thinking you could change him.

Finally, they think, you’ve come to your senses, and bitterness sets in when you agree with their judgment. But if you don’t, you know you didn’t choose him despite the certainty that he would break your heart; you chose him because of it. You had built a wall around your heart to protect yourself, but then you found yourself trapped behind it, afraid of suffocating, and your wall put you in greater danger than you were in the first place.

So you chose him. He smashed the wall and broke your heart open, as you knew he would. He was being himself. You were the one who needed to change.

Taymiya Zaman

Where was I?

Oh yeah. Wanting to lose control and wanting so badly to hang on and stay… inert? Wanting so badly to be both and not knowing which one is the right choice. Never knowing which one is the right choice. But hey, that’s life, isn’t it? Uncertain.

It’s hard accepting that uncertainty and going with it when you want nothing more than to control it all and know it all and have it all right in the palm of your hand. Boy! That sounds more maniacal as I go on. Maybe it’s about having to accept that you can’t control it all. You can’t control life or the direction it takes, you can’t control love and how it starts and who with; you can’t control love and whether it ends or not.

You can’t control that you so badly want to relinquish all that control, or be willing to even admit it, even in writing, to someone willing to take control when you’re just… tired of being the one in control.

Till then? Inertia.

An object either remains at rest or continues to move at a constant velocity, unless acted upon by an external force.