What do you do when the sand runs out?  When that moment in time stands still and you want it to loop for at least another few hours?  How do you measure or put a price on happy endings, even if that happy ending lasted for such a short while?

I struggle to understand life sometimes.  I struggle to find which path we’re supposed to be on or why we replay situations or people continuously and hope it comes around again soon because it may seem insignificant to some, but it means everything to you.  You know that it fills a part of you that you keep hidden from the light, hidden from any insight because you already know the truth.

Everything and yet nothing again.  The highs and lows, and yet here we are.  Standing before me is hope, opposition, fate, and circumstance.  I want nothing more than to know why, what is the purpose, is there really a message or am I hitting rewind even though we are growing older?  It scares me how it makes me feel.  Something so vast, yet so out of reach.  And like the inkeeper with the small candle, I retreat that part of myself.  Snuffing out the light on another day spent buried in a book of doubt.  That’s when the tear forms.

Maybe next time? Maybe this time? Maybe never again?  The chilling thought trails my my mind in hopes to figure out the what, where and why.  Yet for now there is quiet, still, stars meet sky, existing, progressing to that next moment. Praying that I trip into you, or you into me; like we’re teenagers sneaking out for the first time. Laughing, optimistic and loving – maybe even a bit naive.

Keep the smile – it’s free and is my gift to you.