They told me to expect the unexpected.
Either it'll happen or it won't.
But..
Why do I feel as if by expecting I ruin every genuine moment when it exactly does happen?
It's like knowing a suprise for me, and pretending that I never knew any of it.
Isn't just me lying to my own self?
Why does it pains me to accept some things are just better off in our imagination?
The heavy feeling it leaves, then my mind halts and realizes that it would never happen.
I assumed,
I got myself excited over something that meant the world.
Only for me to let myself plummet hard on the grounds of reality.
I don't need to think far beyond, to know it'll break me either way.