Lost and Found

I re-found a card today she had sent, and within it a statement she intended, had meant, would always be true. We never intend to take back our sentiments. We never imagine leaving or being left. Those feelings come from so deep down, we are certain their roots can never be pulled up or severed. The strongest winds or the wildest swells could not yank them from their moorings, and so it is with this assurance, from our bones, that we speak of forever and a day and promise the moon and all its stars.

Why do we see the need to speak of a breakup? Why does something have to be broken just to move on? Why can't we just savor what was?

I have no regrets this time. It was luscious to act with reckless abandon, to love freely and to burn so completely to ash. More real sometimes happens in a briefer period than when years are sacrificed.

I think only fondly when I find these relics. I don't dwell, but I smile and catch a whiff of something faint that was, and for just an instant, is once more. So the statement she made can still meet its promise because I hold and return its intention with a gratitude for what she contributed to this man's life.