Longing for what's lost is much more about longing than loss. When I was very young and my balloon poppped, I'd grow hysterical. But it was always just some stupid balloon. I didn't even particularly like balloons!
It's not that I'd discovered its true value, because it had little to do with balloons. I was merely surprised. That wasn't supposed to happen. That wasn't the narrative I had in my head, and I expected greater control of what happens. This is all childish stuff, but adults have the same affliction.
Keep replacing burst balloons and the kid will quickly become bored with balloons. Give the kid a thousand balloons and she'll soon grow to hate them. But if you take them away, god help you.
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