I thought that because it was ended, that the constant dashing of my hopes would end. When one is thrown against the rocks of the shore again and again, the scar tissue is fierce, and doesn't enable one to see clearly the beauty of the wave and the rock. I had hoped . and I had recognized the rock for its particular strength.
I had thought it over, and this morning and yesterday's morning, I have found myself sinking low and low.
-it is very different now, yes, but the sadness is growing, i think. within the difference, there is more loss for me, and little change in him, and that colors over so many things with a deeper sadness.
-someday, i may be less vague. but can you see the shapes and colors of it anyhow?