Doubt - a fragment

Doubt can be introduced so quickly, in so fine a point. The lightning slash of a pickpocket’s blade, the almost nonexistent tap of the space bar in between letters strung into words, the breathtaking moment when sunset slips into dusk.

I think doubt is a self-protective shield for those who are afraid of exposing their hearts. Even upon mouthing the word “doubt” in my mind my expression is contemptuous and disdainful, not very pleasant at all. Why introduce doubt? Nary a pleasant conversation could be had with doubt at the cocktail party of blossoming romance.

Is it because I am a hopeful romantic full of optimism on the possibilities between a boy and a girl? I know what I feel, I know what I don’t feel. That’s the way it’s been and that’s the way it remains, with me. I don’t have a million doubts, no, not when I feel the way I do, which is that there is someone on the planet that I’d like to be sitting next to right now…and carry on sitting next to for a good long time. No, we don’t have to be doing anything mind-blowing or mind-numbing, I don’t really care what we do at all. Just the presence is stimulating enough. That is such a special thing in itself, I do not want doubt to come in and ruin it all. One seed is enough, just one.

Perhaps I have exposed to much too early on, in my writing, in my intense verbiage that has the potential of driving persons away. Ah, but yes, only those who want to be driven away would be, isn’t that true? Those that harbor doubt, those that bring doubt to the forefront, what are they sidestepping? The potential of disappointment? But what difference does it make to anticipate disappointment? You will be disappointed all the same. All you have, other than having potentially soiled the path ahead, is the sick satisfaction of being right. Somehow you were astute enough to sense the impassable walls ahead. But what do you miss along the path when you are busy craning your head forward to anticipate said walls? And that leads to the overwhelming question: which is the bigger risk, to risk happiness by harboring doubt, or to risk disappointment by harboring faith?

stars whisper of soft romance,
planets rise to dance,
supernovas lead in Chance.

- 'haiku #15', y.h. nogi

Love hangs out alone in the rain beside a lamppost, tulips drooping in his hands.
Then suddenly she appears, glances at his dripping eyebrows, refuses the outstretched bouquet, and bestows a quick kiss before dashing into the house.

And soaked to the bone, Love grins in victory, presses wet flowers to his heart, and begins his return home.

- "Matters of the Heart", Johann Nichy Fiergen