You know how sometimes, circumstances change and your lifestyle changes. The change is strange and unpleasant at first, reluctant, sometimes, especially if it's a change from something positive to something neutral/negative.

After a while, things settle down and you settle around that change. Things become assimilated into that new lifestyle, and then one day in your new mundane life, you chance upon an old message, a crushed letter, or something of the like, and you remember that previous life, and you wonder where all that idyllic existence went.

And whether it'll return.

And horror seize you, (or a cool indifference? Which should you be more horrified about?) when you realize perhaps it wasn't coming back.

What if you had grown accustomed to a lukewarm life, a lukewarm love, a lukewarm passion (yes, oxymoronic, I realize)--an altogether lukewarm existence (repetitive, I know, double positive, if you like, since existence prefigures notions of neutrality, but, whatever).

Haha.

If you don't miss what you lost, what was the value of it in the first place?