When neither "perfect" nor "imperfect" were good enough, what do you turn to, then?  It can be easy to feel like there is no water left in the ocean for you.  If you're lucky, maybe you'd look from where you once came from and find that the water from the babbling brook was clear enough for you to quench your thirst.  But if not?  When you feel like everyone else has left, will you, too, decide to forge ahead on your own, and if you do, will it be from bravery, or cowardice?  Will you leave everyone else in the dust, so that you can never feel that you are left behind anymore?

Could we drink from that still glass lake?  Would that be enough to sustain us?  Perhaps the oasis in the desert is necessary to keep us going, even if it's little more than a mirage.

When I look back on these times how do I want to see things?  There is something a little...disappointing, I think, even if I were to become saved from existence.  I'm not sure how to voice it or put a finger on it.  Maybe it's because it divides life into the "saved" and the "not saved".  And who is it, exactly, then, that decides our fates from up on high?  Wouldn't it feel...cheap, almost?  Being saved just because you happened to be chosen.  Like winning some existential lottery, ticketed by your own merits.

Maybe it's also because "perfect" wasn't good enough.  It makes it feel like I've already fallen from grace.  And what recourse is there, then?

Someone in the pantheon perhaps would agrue that everyone should be saved, to be chosen.  But it's not really true, is it?  Some dreams are meant never to come true, they are just dreams.  And "perfect" was never real, never in the first place, even when it still seemed magical, it never was.  But I'm always drawn to things like that, because the things that are real never last.

Where are you?  Where are you now?  And will you ever find me?  Shall I wait on the shore of that still glass lake?  Shall I wait in the tower?  Shall I wait in the sky amongst the stars?

What if you, too, won't ever turn out to be real in the first place?