Being a mortal

When I was young and living in China, I was told stories of fairies. They descended from the heavens and came down to earth, to be a mortal, so that they could fall in love. I began to think that was not just isolated to fairies in Chinese legends. I began to think that was really how life intended to be.

You must become a mortal, to feel, to love, to cry, to know that your life as you knew it would end soon, and the life you'd start with the loved one, your loved one, would be full of treacheries, and there were so many unknowns ahead of you: 

"Would he love you till the end of the day? Would you love him? Would it be worth all the sacrifices you made? Would you regret it? Would you still love him if you knew more about him than he let on? Would you be willing to forgo your sheltered, bubbled, immortal life for the real one with him? Would he betray you? Grow tired of you? Stop feeling passionate about you? Would he leave you?"  

That was perhaps what love was really about. To take a leap of faith, to know the mirage may one day disappear after a sandstorm, but alas, you could feel, even for that brief moment.

To feel, is a powerful thing. I want to feel, again, sometime, some day.