One of the recurring themes of my life seems to be: the things I've desired most have often slipped through my fingers. It's as if fate, in its mysterious design, tests us by challenging our attachments. Providence constantly seems to be examining our resolve by prying loose what we hold dearest. At least in my case this truth seems immutable.
Amidst this realization, a paradox emerges. Could it be that the key to preserving our desires lies in relinquishing our grasp upon them? It's a confounding notion, one that challenges conventional wisdom. How curious, and perhaps disheartening, that safeguarding what we covet necessitates feigning indifference. The backwards law seems to play it's hand constantly. How true was Dostoevsky in his words when he said:
"The person who is able to suffer more must for that reason be worthy of suffering more"
This leads me wondering if this prevalent epidemic of emotional unavailability, that plagues so many, has it's root in this very phenomenon? Could it be that the reluctance to express love, to fully embrace affection, stems from an innate fear of loss? Is our reluctance to shower our beloveds with devotion rooted in a desperate attempt to shield ourselves from the pain of potential separation? It's as poignant as it is tragic, for in guarding our hearts, we inadvertently cast doubt upon the worth of those we hold dearest, leaving them wondering about their self-worth. It feels as though we're damned regardless of our decisions. It brings to mind Kierkegaard's notoriously famous observation:
"Do it or don't do it, you will regret both."
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