Love letter # 236

It’s true, things could have gone differently. We both made poor choices, acted out of pain. In the end it was a mess.

Yet, always within reach, the love that uplifted, that promised to redress everything. As much as we made it our excuse, it gave us flight. When we were close, truly together, we were liberated. No one could touch us.

Even now, our bubble having burst, I would pay this tax of ruins. It hurts today, but my sense is that it will dull to an ache, and then to a kind of sweetness. The truce of distance will call off the dogs; and in time we will both give thanks. For we have loved, however imperfectly.

Nothing more needs to be said.