~Dreams~

Dreams last for so long.

Even after you're gone.

~Years~

Even though I made the first cruel move.

Even though I deleted you from my life.

Even though I ignored your messages and tossed you aside cold-heartedly.

Even though you wanted us to remain friends.

Even though I destroyed every chance of that.

Even though it's been years since we last spoke.

There are still days where I attempt to steal a glimpse of your profile.

Regretting my foolish mistake in the past.

Can I undo our friendship?

Or have we become two distant strangers.

Tied only to the birthday greeting each year.

Which I never fail to give.

I remember your promises.

But I also remember your lies.

~The Meaning Of Life~

 He begged of her to stop her melancholy.
He begged of her to let go of the past.

He begged to be the one to mend her broken heart.

And yet the years past, and her unmistakably frozen frown was never able to melt into a smile.

He had her body, but he had not her heart. They slept in the same bed, and yet at the same time, they both felt completely alone and cold at night.

He did not understand, and could never come to understand, how someone could live their life wrapped up in a memory that was so meaningless. He did not understand, that certain thoughts never age, and certain memories never fade.

She grew cold at times, and would sometimes wander out to the lake beside their home alone, and when she sensed him approaching, she would hurriedly drag her hands across her face. But he knew. He knew she was crying. And when he reached out to wrap his arms around her, she too often shrugged them away in haste and turned away towards the house.

Eventually, on the day the old Maple tree shed it's last Autumn leaf, his frail arms begun to let go of her fragile being. 

"Why George, why?"

"Because I love you Janice, and that is why. And that, is why..."

He drifted in and out of consciousness, and after all those years, she reached out to touch him, for the first time, subtly on the cheek. And there she felt the warmth of his face, and the tears he left uncried, but most importantly, the love of his that never died.

She had not time to reply before she felt his grip loosening by the second. She choked on her tears of grief. She cried, perhaps out of guilt, perhaps out of the loss of a companion, or maybe it was just the dusty Texan air. He stayed with her despite her sorrows. He gave her all he had to give. She had imagined his love would die with time but that was never so. 

She did not understand how she could hurt someone like the way she was hurt in the past. She, and George, well, they both came to lead the life they detested as both were clinging on to something that wasn't even there. One a memory and the other an impossible heart. What should have been a perfect story morphed into a never ending cycle of sorrow. Being with her was pain, like a frozen knife stabbed into an already breaking heart. Being with him was numb, much like the attempt to hurt a prosthetic limb.

But you see, despite the compassion one might feel towards them, the truth was neither of them were truly unhappy. In fact, they had grown accustomed to the little arrangement they silently made in their hearts throughout the years. He loved her unconditionally. And she stayed with him unconditionally. Maybe this was love, maybe this was something else. What, I could never imagine. But the bond of man was never something that could be fully detailed through words alone. And sometimes, that's the way it should be in life. No questions but the flow.

Everything passes. Nobody gets anything for keeps. And that's the way we've got to live.

Live, as if every day's your last.