What brought us here? Why has this place, this moment with you been the single place I’ve lived?
Why has it defined me? Why do I feel such sorrow when I think of us here, is it knowing, now decades later how special it was, how innocence, how complete. Is this the sorrow of an old man’s knowing that he walked away from the only love he ever knew?
Would I give anything to be back here with you? Or would I let you slip away from me again?
We walked hand in hand my dear one, the autumn leaves crackled under your feet and you laughed. Your cheeks were blushing red after being stung by the season’s cold moist air, so beautiful, so peaceful, so perfect.
