These are supposed to be the halcyon years, but in a minute I feel like I've regressed and rewound time to an era I never ever wanted to relive. Maybe these moments are necessary, to remind you that everything is transitory and metamorphose is actually the mercy of something more divine and sometimes beyond our control. So whether or not you and I are convinced that everything is going to be okay in the end, even that belief might be evanescent, forever subject to change. An effort needs to be made to remember that a glass half empty is inarguably half full, and something will always be more than nothing and even if you've lost all that you held dear, it means once upon a time you did have, and nobody can ever take the reality of an infinite moment away from your pocket full of treasured memories.
Maybe that's why I write, for what it's worth, it commits to an unbiased platform an opinion that really did happen. So one day when my offhand recollection fails to remind me how lucky we were, which, if you have the capacity to translate it into something more gladdening, you can interpret every stroke of luck, every virtue, every bounty, every win, into some form of everlasting gratitude. PS. It's easier said than done, I know, I know, I know.
Dear words, please stay with me and even stray from me but don't forget to come back to visit me on a sombre Sunday like today when the weather can't make its mind. I don't know who or how to apologise specifically, but it's taking a little longer to fix my frame of mind than I anticipated. It's never the right time and it's never your fault, but you can only ever clamber over the fence knowing that when you're up and over, you can see you have the strength in you to do it again and again and again. I get it now, maybe I won't tonight or tomorrow and maybe I didn't yesterday but for now I believe we'll all float on okay. Love, A.
PPS. Je vous aime, d'accord?