When you really, truly want something, they say the universe conspires to give it to you. On a silver platter. With a cherry on top. And (possibly) a sign saying 'eat-me, eat-me'. Assuming that ever happens to you, for a minute you'll feel like you're on top of the world. As if the powers-that-be have finally realized how deserving you were (about-bloody-time, you may say). Except when the initial happiness dies down (which it does, a little too soon for comfort) all sorts of strange things happen on the inside. You look around to-and-fro wondering if this is a trap. You put your hand ooper-neeche wondering where strings are attached. You look up at where the deity is supposed to be and say, 'okay, no funny business now, tell me what the deal is, yo!'. Because somehow, in this silly, silly world where nothing ever seems to go right, if all of a sudden something does, you become very very suspicious. And scared. Because its so much easier to doubt, than believe. It's so much easier to stay away, than give in. It's so much easier to give up, than hold-on, and it's so much easier to be pessimistic, than deal with disappointment.
So the question is, my love: there is me, and there is you. what-to-do, what-to-do?