Fortune is a woman, she favors the lion-hearted. No time for weak men, she bestows her blessings on the fighters. She is difficult to attract. She isn’t easily convinced by any man. You have to prove to her that you’re worthy. Sometimes, no amount of effort will do. She’ll just keep on ignoring you, refusing to see your hard work and heartaches. There are different ways to woo her, but there’s no saying which method is the most effective. Sometimes, it just takes a little nudge; other times it takes blood, sweat and tears. Once you have her, though, you’ll see that the suffering was well worth it. She’ll give you joy, satisfaction. Your heart’s deepest desires are finally satiated.
Her perfume is intoxicating, filling you with so much vigor that you feel you can take on anything. Ah, yes, you’re consumed with that sense of greatness she allowed you to believe you possessed. Spinning, spinning, spinning on top of the world, you demand everyone to take notice of you and the woman who made it possible. But just as they turn their eyes on you, you realize you’re the only one standing there. Slowly making your descent, you struggle to recall the exact minute you were left alone. Those thoughts are quickly dashed as your slow descent graduates into a quick fall from grace. Battered and bruised, you desperately look around, hoping she’ll be there.
She isn’t. You begin asking yourself why. What could you have possibly done to make her abandon you? Was it your pompousness? Didn’t you give her the attention she deserved? Or was it just because it was never meant to be?
None of the above. She was just too fickle to stay with you. As you slowly rebuild your life and as the wounds heal, you start to look for her again vowing to make it good this time and never let her go. But all this is futile because she refuses to notice you. Last you heard, she was already with a stronger, braver, more virile man.
Maybe in a few years’ time you’ll be better than that other man. Maybe you will get back together and she will bestow on you favors again, the way she once did. Then again, maybe not. Maybe no matter how strong and courageous and virile you’ll get, she still won’t give you the time of day. After all, you had your chance with her, and you blew it.
Maybe she’s still with that other man by that time. Or maybe, she disposed of that other man already and moved on to even greater men. And you… you’re left in the sidelines only with vague memories of a distant past which you will never have again all because she won’t have you anymore.
Fortune is a bitch.
Note: This appeared in The Spires, literary folio of San Beda College.
Disclaimer: This is not a rant against anyone, it is merely a piece on fortune inspired by the philosophy of Niccolo Machiavelli as reflected upon by Hannah Pitkin.