Temporarily Obsession Poem by Clarisse Austria

Temporarily Obsession

There was a man I knew since I was in Highschool. I met him with peculiar hobby or should I call it temporary obsession.

He began his fascination with the gentle cooing of pigeons. I remembered how proud he was when he had shown me a bird loft he crafted with his own hands, pouring his heart and soul into each meticulous detail. Soon, he found himself immersed in the world of pigeon racing. He dreamt of being the best pigeon breeder in town.

How can I forget what he told me about pigeons. He said, 'Whether you release the pigeons or transport them to a distant location, they inevitably return to their owner'. And they really did. I was awestruck by this phenomenon. But eventually, he grew tired of this and did not reclaim them anymore to their home.

Seasons passed, soon the pigeons were outnumbered by tanks of shimmering fish, each one a jewel in his underwater kingdom. From the smallest guppies to the majestic flowerhorn with their graceful sweeps of color, he tended to them with a devotion bordering on reverence. Yet, like seasons, it changed.

Undeterred, he turned his attention to a new passion, one that sent shivers down the spines of those who dared to peek into his world: spiders. Hairy and scary, big and blue, black and molting, his collection grew with each passing day, until one fateful morning, one of the creatures made a daring escape, prompting yet another shift in his ever-evolving interests.

And so it went, with each new obsession eclipsing the last: cocks, with their proud strut and fierce battles. He invested money, time and emotion for he was at our backyard most of the time, nurturing the cocks. Then next, dog that he bought after he convinced me lovingly.

Each hobby cherished but inevitably, it is replaced by something new, something exciting, something different. Just like me! For in the end, I was just another fascination, another fleeting obsession that captivated his heart for a time, only to be replaced by someone else.

And now, as he outgrew me, I can't help but wonder: was I ever truly loved, or was I just another passing obsession, another footnote in the story of his ever-changing passions?

I remember his first obsession, pigeons. It made me wonder, if he were to transform into a pigeon, would he still find his way back to me?

Perhaps, I am that pigeon, always drawn back to the one I love, even when they choose to let me go. I find myself returning to the one who holds my heart, only to realize that they've set me free without the intention of reclaiming me.

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