I am reminded of the story of the man who went the world over to find his happiness only to return home disappointed. Then much to his amazement and delight he found it next door in one who had never left home, rather she had pined for happiness in her own home town with out finding it until the wonderer came home.
What, you are tempted to ask, if he had just stayed home, and availed himself of that happiness his entire life at home, and why did she not see him before he left home in his search? Well it could be that she was too plain, not near exotic enough for his dream. And when she saw him he was just the boy next door, nothing to get excited about. Then as time marched on her knight never road up to her life to carry her into the happiness of which she dreamed, so she drowning in the mundane, settled for what was available, making a life for the children she had brought into the world as happy for them as she could until a divorce not of her choosing set her free once again to look for what she never hope to find.
Then he, the wonderer, came back into her life, no longer the boy next door, but the exotic man who had spent a lifetime traveling the world living a life of high adventure. And she now appeared to him as the roots he had abandoned in his youth, and he now was able to see that what he had taken for plainness had just been his familiarity with her that had blinded him to her beauty and strength.
The moral is: there is no moral; sometime you have to live a lot to live a little.
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©
Rexx
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