Drive The Remembrance From Thine Eyes
Just remember: It will always destroy everything that comes after.
Because once you’ve known it, when you’ve had it and held it and weighed its realness, its egg-warm solidity in the palm of your hand, nothing else will ever suffice.
It is why you’ll always be searching for the same sweet, sad refrain in every punctuated bar of a life lived in stops and starts. But always, always, always it will remain a maddening half-beat behind, maddeningly out of fingertip-grazing reach.
I remember.
But remembrance does nothing to lighten the shadows. It does not warm one in the dead of winter. It cannot dispel the pain.
What if remembrance is all you have, to have and to hold?
