Guess I'm not quite done with the universe musings and all.
I think one of my core beliefs, as goassamer soap-bubble-thin-fragile as it may be, is that most anything is possible in this world.
There, I said it. I've known/believed it for a long time, and have likely said it to friends, but perhaps not quite to the universe (here, I'm allowing the world wide Internet to stand in for the universe).
A horrific relationship experience a few years ago oddly enforced this belief while showing me its dark underbelly. If anything is possible, then anything is possible, even dark, underhanded, painful, twisted, lying. I'm fortunate that's an anomaly in my life and I choose not to focus on that side, even as it's all around us. But so's the good stuff.
Now, another encounter with possibility (of a far nicer kind, don't worry) seems to be pointing out that if anything is possible ... so is the ending of a possibility. Damn. What kind of fucked-up, consistent logic is that?
My inner optimist points out that to keep carrying this logic means that even an ended possibility may reopen. Sure. It may. But part of living and believing in the realm of possible is knowing when one has ended. And that that kind of possibility isn't nearly as fun as when it opened before me. But, ultimately, just a different possibility. It just makes my heart want to kick rocks.