My Lady, Africa.

Occasionally a loose glance still captures my heart. I used to be so ready to dedicate everything to her. After our last encounter, there was no question in my head or heart that I wanted to spend my life with her. I couldn't shake the thought of the beauty of our life together. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it has only made my heart grow absent. It's not that I didn't still dream of her or want to spend time with her, rather, I simply didn't want. Anything. At all. I'm sure that's not entirely true, but the bored man and the starving man have different appetites and my apathy doesn't build an appetite for truth. Truth is, I probably don't love her the way I used to. Maybe I'm coming out of my own personal honeymoon phase and need love harder, but maybe I'm just really done. Maybe she was just there to remind me how to dream.

But I got a text from her the other day and it turned my world around again. And everytime someone reminds me to dream I think of her and everytime something reminds me of her I start to dream. I can't separate the two in my head. Maybe beyond the Apathetic Ocean, across the great River Self-Denial, there is some fountain of youth or city of gold or promised land, but I haven't found it yet and my humble vessel isn't fit to fare those waters. You reassure me and tell me to set sail and I realize that I've never really sailed before. Sure I've practiced in the harbor a few times, but always in sight of others and never further than I could swim. So really, you're asking too much of me and too much of my boat. Neither of us are fit for the journey you have mapped out, and I can't even read the map. Even if we found the way, all the other promised lands I've found have dried up shortly after my arrival. I can't let that happen this time. I can't watch her die on me.

"So you'll just drown her in your own apathy?"