The Long Drink
There was a bottle of rich, exuberant wine I'd been sitting with and taking long drinks from and enjoying and being strung out by for months. It pleased me. It confounded me. It drew me in. And I drunk as much as I could get my hands on.
It was captivating.
And wines will do that to you. They will bury you in delight. They will entangle you.
And they can make you believe that the delights of the senses and the sensuality of nearness to endearment can truly lift you up beyond a common, daily rift.
Then one day, I noticed the wine didn't seem to shimmer as it had. It didn't seem to be as delighted to see me as I was it. And I wondered if I had invested too much into this wine; into its charms. I wondered if I had misinterpreted the meaning of the long drinks this wine delivered.
Then I wondered…Was the wine something beyond my appreciative abilities? Or did I misinterpret this wine from the very beginning? In any case, one day the wine failed to shimmer.
This relationship we have with our desires is complex. We sometimes invest a great deal more than we should. We expect more than what the maker was able to deliver. We think these objects of our desire, rich and dark and supple, will return our investment. They do sometimes. Sometimes they don't.
Taste before you drink. Drink before you imbibe. Know the wine before you invest in it. And despite the possibility that its shimmer may go away one day, take the chance it might stay.