Forever People is a bizarre concept to you.
You’d like to believe they exist. That somewhere, out there, is your Forever Person who is just waiting for you to ask them, like, 12-52 specific and personal questions—the answers to which could align the sun and the moon and the stars and black holes and space dust and you’ll suddenly realize this person (who had a great answer to what he or she would save in a fire) is the person you’re going to spend Forever with.
Though, you sometimes wonder if there is a population of Temporary People out there.
Because that’s what you are. You enjoy the temporary.
You thrive in fleeting moments, in short-term planning, and in expiration dates. You don’t denounce things as failure because they didn’t last forever.
You don’t measure your love’s success in years and forevers. You don’t consider time to be the end-all, be-all determinant of what means something is working.
You find your love in bursts and depth and spontaneity.
You find it in happiness. In how you feel, right here and now. You don’t worry about forever.
There’s no concept of timing or analysis in your love. You don’t ask yourself questions to verify how you feel. You feel it.
You don’t need to wonder about forever.
Sometimes the sun and the moon and the stars and black holes and all the space dust do align. Someone might make you feel that way.
But then all that shifts. And you just don’t feel it anymore.
Because you know—sometimes, the love fizzles. It flatlines. And it’s no one’s fault, for breaking that “forever” streak.
Temporary gives you options. Temporary makes you grateful. Temporary gives you comfort and security and freedom that Forever can’t.
You don’t need Forever to make you happy. You find your happiness in giving yourself breathing room and flexibility.
You can let go and feel good about it. Because you never promise forever.