​And then you feel it – the overwhelming weight of truth which is it, and has always been, the bitter taste of sweet love. It hunts you, you see. Chasing you down through the corridors of yesterday and leaving the footprints of pain and hurt. On the chest of a tomorrow that will never be. 
How terribly beautiful it all is – Love. Time. Death.  The colossal Bermuda triangle of every stage. The life burning in love’s lung. Breathing joy as it swims along the river of time, and imperfections, to land on the valley of regret. 
And the frosting on the cake, the crust of the bread. The End. As cupid’s spawn that was true love gasps and quakes, with each last breath. It gets dims, and darkness creeps up to cover happiness with the cloak of mistakes and the coat of heartbreak. 
And so it ends, or we think it does. The roller coaster crash course of spirit-fueled intense and heart wrenching beauty in utter and simple Love, just love. All a pile of ash now, gathering dust in the corner of our hearts. 
But if surely dead bones may rise again, and charcoal stones may spark fire, then let it come again – Us. Me, you and the feeling of tremendous pleasure. 
If love is pain, then baby let’s hurt tonight.

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