So many of us, even on our darkest days and in our bleakest hours, are living the dreams of someone else..
And in the end, it's the memory of love that remains. The texture of it in our minds.
I spent a few hours at a nursing home tonight, and I wanted to write about it all, all my flood of emotions when I got home. But I to participate when I got home instead, letting the words dissolve to be rediscovered another day.
After all this time, it's the love that remains.