The feeling is familiar, bittersweet but more sweet than ever. Vibrant and much too deep for the quite days have grown to a passionate blaze which longed to be set free. I sipped on mental memory, and old delights once owned. All the years, the tears, the smears of faded hopes have been almost erased, rather buried in a crevasse unattainable to all human hands, any kind but yours. Love is blind, choosing to forget yet always remembering. We have lived our own lives of perfection, to the best of what we know. Yet the yearning to answer just one wonder has finally grown. And here we are, battered from love and saved from what we once ran from. Unsure of what will become yet thrilled to become what once was. The past in now irrelevant for what has been endured has been a sharp blessing. And like shattered glass of the window we once looked out upon, we slowly piece back together the dream we once dreamt of. Bonded by the truth, that love is endless.
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