The Wandering Dreamer
“Move on!”, it said.
But the wanderer did not want to. No matter how much he wanted to. He held it too close to his heart.
“But it is not worth your time anymore! It will never give you the happiness and the satisfaction that you so keenly need!”, the voice muttered under its breath again, now with a greater sense of urgency.
Once again he held his resolve to trudge on. To give it his very best. Just so he could once again feel that warmth that once enveloped his tender heart. For the sake of that euphoria that once gave him a sense of purpose.
“Pffft. Do what you want to, you stupid fool! But you’re never going to be loved as you were! You’re just naive in believing so. It has already dwindled down to a trickle. A drop. Why do you even bother pursuing it anymore?”, the voice, ending the sentence with a sigh of disbelief.
He knew it was futile to everyone else. But it didn’t matter what everyone else felt. He was living his life. He was living it the way he wanted to; the way he knew how to. He will not let other people dictate what he does, much less a voice with does not seem to be helping way in any way at all! He believed in it. Even though it by itself didn’t do so anymore.
“How long do you intend to carry on with this madness; this..waste of time? I’m done with you. You and your kind are weak. Useless. Mindless dreamers without a goal in life. Look at the world around you. Look! Do you think there is a place for your kind here? Never. We are the realists. We believe in numbers;possibilities;reality. You shall perish and live a life full of dejection and fade into the oblivion. I am done here”, the voice said with great conviction, trailing off into the deep, dark recesses of his dreamer mind.
And all of a sudden, his shoulders felt as if a burden has been lifted off him. The voice had left him. He was free to carry on with his quest of winning it over to his favour again.
He loved her with all his heart; his soul even;even at the risk of the latter being just a metaphorical representation of a human spirit, he says it with full conviction nevertheless. Even though her love has changed, he still believes in her. In it.
“We’re such different entities, you and I. You view life from the rose-tinted glasses of a dreamer; I see everything as it is. And the fact is, it is much different now. The battles we’ve fought, the nights we’ve laid down upon without a single wink; has culminated to this very moment. You are the sun, and I am the moon. I am so sorry”, she trailed off, leaving him marooned, mouth agape.
The wanderer still carried on to love her with all his heart and soul, never faltering for a single moment. Believing in a world that could possibly just exist in his young, naive mind.
He continued trudging along, ever searching for an answer.
“Drip.Drip.Drip”, went something in the stalactites in the dark cave ahead of him.
The wanderer suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.
What laid in front of him was a pool full of warmth; happiness; joy. It was Love!
But it seemed like it had nowhere else to go! The Love was just dripping from one lone stalactite at the top of the cave into a pool that would just dry up as soon as a drop dripped onto the cave floor; repeating its endless cycle over and over, again and again.
What the Voice said was true. It was just a drip. A shadow of its former self.
Strangely, without a single thought at all, the Wanderer stepped into the pool. Gently he waded slowly into the depths of the pool. A warm feeling enveloped his body. Strangely, he felt..loved.
Maybe..maybe what he was searching for was within this pool!
The Wanderer took one deep breath, and waded deeper into the depths of the pool, until he could not be seen anymore.
Amazingly, the lone stalactite began to drip more vigorously immediately after the Wanderer disappeared into the pool.
A waterfall eventually formed where the stalactite once stood.
But the Wanderer was nowhere to be found.