I would like to think it is nothing, at least I’d like to try. I know I can’t, but I will fool myself into believing it was less than what it is (I’m gullible that way).
  Still I know, deep down, it was more than what I was expecting, certainly it was more than what I was prepared for.
  It’s always something; really, anything is.
  There is something in anything, worthwhile or not, that captures your imagination or sends your soul circling.
  Nothing matters then.
  It is always more than what you were counting on, even when there is nothing to compare it to.
  Always unlike anything else, you try to twist and turn it into something familiar, or something you can relate to, all the while knowing that nothing has been like that, or felt like this: ever.
  Yeah, it’s like that.
  It’s not nothing, but it can’t be everything. . . or maybe it is.
10/17/2017                                  j.g.l.