The wheels on tables

Last night, I dreamt a familiar nightmare that took me to a place i hadn't visited in a long time. A place filled with angst and suspicion and despondency. A place where i was sickly in love, yet twisted with hatred. A place where he was the one who didn't want me. And i woke up frightened, surprisingly. I woke up, and the tables had whirled around once more. I wonder if that's all it will ever be about. We yearn for something, achieve it, then cast it away into the night as soon as we taste it. But as soon as that taste is previewed somewhere else, we race to it again. Will anything in this life remain constant? Or is everything a matter of the cat and the mouse.