Our time together felt like a storm, like wild wind and rain, like something too big to handle but too powerful to escape. It blew around me and tangled my hair, left water on my face, made me know that I am alive, alive, alive. There were moments of calm and pause as there are in every storm, and moments when our words fork lightening, at least for each other.
I’ll come, soon….and we’ll have our love again.
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so… i’m pretty sure you just contradicted yourself.
The previous post said “we’ll never meet again,” while this one says the opposite.
Not tryin’ to put you on the spot, but “never meet again” and “i’ll come soon… and we’ll have our love again” are conflicting statements. They are mutually exclusive. Neither can be true without nullifying the other.
Either way, this one seems like something someone i once (thought i) knew, might say… but that’s impossible (or at least implausible). She was also fond of self-contradiction (either that or incompetent, i never could quite figure out which it really was… perhaps both?). And even if she did return, neither of us are who we were then, nor will we ever be again. She’s not “her” anymore, and probably never really was in the first place. But i was me… and that was that.
She died and that’s it…
I see. Well, you’re still alive, so you can still do something.
You don’t have to forget, and you don’t have to remember. Let it come and let it go.
But don’t stay down… keep moving; even when you think you can’t.