How do we manage loving someone who doesn't love us back?
A bird may love a fish, but where would they live?
Maybe, they could work something out,
meet at the rocks every lonely afternoon.
And the fish would eventually grow wings...
Like the stars fading, with the halo of the vanishing moon.
Like the ocean, falling and whispering against the shore.
Love never ends-- it just changes into something else. Something beautiful.
Some nights, I press the seashell to my ear trying to hear the ocean; trying to hear you.
And it all comes back to me.
But I do not feel the pain until I think about it.
But once I hear his name it buries me like a pile of sharp sad rocks.
Once I hear his name, I feel heavy, like there is too much gravity pressing down on my heart.
Sometimes I think we all feel guilty for being happy, and as soon as we catch ourselves acting like everything is okay, we remember it's not.
To my readers...
Heather: Darling, your posts are just as beautiful as your writing. They bring me hope; I love you.
Ever: Dear, you are beautiful. Thank you for the award, I will post my seven things very soon. I love you darling, you really are amazing.
Haze: I love you. You are so supportive in everything I write, and feel. Thank you, dear.