It was all so new and exciting, helpless to ever put down. Pleasure and fun was delicious, that this is love, was never in doubt. But the corners are now knocked off it, the paint chipped, pitted and flaked. The patina once so exotic, now, simply, just dull, pallid wear. What exactly is it that changed the object of our adorations? Does age or familiarity weaken, diming needs of an infatuation? Outdated, unloved, and no longer a thrill. Bury it deep in life’s emotional land-fill.
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