A case of sheer abandonment

The idea has existed now, for sometime, and I can’t help but mourn parting with it. Let me tell you the circumstances.

Attached to the idea are detailed stories of grand adventure, now never to be played out.

The idea has existed quietly in the back of my mind, company in the loneliest of hours,

hope when I needed to concoct some- I can’t help but wince at the thought of giving away

it’s comfort.                       The idea was chewed, dissected, examined from all angles then sat

upon the shelf, taking upon the form of a discarded book

( with the Brief thought: I may read that one again).

I totally forgot the idea, pranced around and whimsically explored with out,

spent days hating the idea and detested pondering the thought of it,

then all at once was entranced- romanced on a dance floor- I fluttered my eyelashes at the idea, toying.

Rolled the idea around on the curve of my tongue, smirked, and was smitten once again.

Be sympathetic Reader, the idea held charm, as ideas went I viewed this one with many additional bells and whistles- features to satisfy my deepest heart’s, never to be uttered, fantasy.

One day I laid, twisted in sheets, the idea suspended in the morning light. I objectively viewed the idea,

glanced at it, threw my feet over the bed-got up to get a better look, and paced its axis.

Looking up from where I stood the idea was obviously the lousiest idea I’ve ever had.

I then hastily lugged it over my shoulder, passed the book case and made a beeline for the rubbage can. Where it had always belonged- I passionately thought.                                      Yet the idea sat and didn’t dissolve quickly.                    It wormed its way back in, swam up the stream of my conscious and floated down, and in due time the idea again became a familiar & splendid playmate.

Yet suddenly without forethought reason I stopped,

stared at it squarely in the eyes,          blinked twice,                          opened my eyes wider then I ever had before, and realized my running                                                                              imagination.

The idea was neither friend nor foe, the idea was to never truly be.

Reader, all I could do now, no longer ignorant, is decide to abandon it. Haul it to the curb. Get the dirty business done.

Hands outspread palms revealed to the sky, I watch the idea shrink, and it becomes a mere figment, a shadow, a sliver, and then its gone-evaporated as if it never was. And I’m left sitting here, lonely perplexed disheveled without-awake-wishing i could play with it just once more. Wondering if I was right to consider letting it go.

But knowing it was about time.

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