sugar and air

You know what scares and delights me? Inside me, some part of me, I know, I have a person who thinks its smart to not work a real job, live poorly (but happily?), just play with your kids all day, educate them yourself. You're teaching them the real lesson of life--be happy. If you aren't happy, what's the point? Money? That's it. Money. That's the dream, the dream isn't a happy life, its a wealthy life. And isn't that sad? When you really consider it, if you found someone to share it with you, wouldn't you just want to be happy even if it means second-hand furniture and old hole-y shirts? Maybe it takes being completely devoid of happiness to get your priorities straight. Maybe I'm young and I don't really get something everyone else gets. I'd rather spend my time learning how to be very happy then saving and working and slaving so I can buy what I want.

People show their affection with money and its not even a conscious thing, its the only thing you can think of. I love you, and I'm going to prove it with this money, because how else will you know? She loves him. She loves him because he gives her everything she wants, and all she wants are things, because what else is there? She loves him truly and really, she does. But that's the only way she can know for sure that he loves her too. And that's the only way that she can say it to anyone else. He let's her love us. She's so fragile, we give her strength by withholding. Shattered to pieces when the air is still, a wind is enough to destroy her completely. The armor we've built of silence and sugar lets her go on. It entices us. That armor also makes her wonderful and its tempting and you crave it and it makes you comfortable. Its cotton candy, you can eat and eat and eat. You taste it every time but it never makes you full.

You can't reject it, or she can't know you love her. You can't accept it because you know its just sugar and air. Its a decision you can never make.