It is not as if I planned to go South or North, or even a journey for that matter. Life can be dignified as an adventure for most people; as for myself it is whatever I choose to make of it. I cannot plan my destiny nor could I predict the tasks for the future or the people I would meet along the way. I can navigate my life, in a sense I am the sailor and the captain of a ship. Perhaps I cannot control the weather nor the conditions of the sea but I can steer my way through a storm, and into the light. I have become Henry the Navigator, I am me, a will never or could never be anything more or less than that. I am all I could ever offer, perfection to say the least, but in another's eyes I could be more than I perceive myself to be. I did not have a magic foretelling crystal ball, nor a magic genie that I rubbed from a lamp. I am not Cinderella, or Snow white, but perhaps I did get my fairy tale ending. He was the navigator, the prince that could and does sail his way to my heart. It is a time period which I can savor and enjoy for my own stimulation and selfish pleasure, but I deserve too be loved, as does everyone else with a beating heart. Destiny. Fate. Serendipity. Any of these words could not compare to the immaculate invocation, that radiates from within my being. Yet I continue to ponder the thought of LOVE, if it were to be real, if it is real if I am the face of love. Am I truly deserving of this four letter word, and if not would I ever be considered worthy. If he loves me and I love him what stops me from perusing anything and everything? Fear strikes me to the core, I would become a solemn drifter among the colliding tide with the unholy moon, I would become a beggar. Stripped of my pride and respect, I would not be meritorious of my maiden name, and furthermore of his. My heart cries out for love, for him to love me. The silent nights force me to become compulsive with my thoughts, as if a freight train rapidly sped cross my brain in a consecutive circular motion, till my stomach became encapsulated with a conjunction of knots. I am nervous that it would be the cause of nerves for him to bring in a breach to my soul, "I Love You", can I handle that? Can I believe in love? In him? Or would I be disowned? I cannot control my compass, but I can help to steer in a straightened direction. To the north, to the largest star of all, to his heart, I will navigate my own life.
Destiny could possibly be defined as the nature of one's being, of one's discourse and or one's life and moral code of justice that may be personified or altered. Perhaps I can sing my journey, I can waltz through and past my life, avoid the topic of fate, of serendipity and certainly destiny. Does love have a steel handed effect on the circumstance, on a life on a person, but more specifically on me? Can my destiny effect my love life, or does my love life effect my destiny, but what I know to be true is that both effect my life. I want to be able to coax the words out from their crusted over, hardened shell of a heart. I sincerely mean what I feel, if only the words could disperse in an orderly fashion, rather than to contradict themselves. It would be as if they were their own element; and in my love's words, as though he were on cloud nine, while mine would be compared to that of soaring above every tree. There is more to love than a puff or vegetation, destiny? Is it destiny? Was it destiny? How? I continuously question my own authority, is my fear failure? Everyone's fear is failure, isn't it? We are to afraid of the truth... that we suck, that there may be a better and or another partner out there for every person that roams the earth, or even the tremble and wrath of that that we cannot control. Whatever the scenario, or case that is faced with destiny we cannot control the unnatural force. LOVE is love, Destiny is DESTINY. a difference yet a similarity.
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