paradise | letters to Him √

9. love is not over.

I think what we had shattered a long time ago, even before you left. The cracks became too much to support with just the two of us, and the crystal water inevitably seeped in. Though it was the end of us, it gave birth to something else. The water washed over us in little droplets, cleansing us, preparing us. For what, I still have yet to figure out, but I will be ready, and so will you.

(From the cracks bloomed a flower. A beautiful, delicate thing that we have yet to destroy. It is not as strong as what we had before, but the most exquisite things need protection from everything else.)

You said what we had was gone, but love can't be destroyed. Not really. It lingers until something else, someone else, needs it. It is flaming energy, which burns brighter than the sun.

You were my sun, and you were my light. Sometimes you were too hot for your own good, the flames licking at your hands and face as you talked about your dreams, all of your potential covered in stardust.

The wonder in your eyes is something I will never forget. Though the sparks died when it was pounded out by the realities of life, the underlying curiosity was still there, just buried. If I could ask you for anything, it would be for you to know that that wonder is still there, and retain it forever.

You always had something to talk about. That was the funny thing about you. You could make the weather sound interesting, and you could draw me in like a moth to a flame each and every time. I loved your voice, and I loved you. I still do in my own way.

I think what we had shattered a long time ago.

But love is not over. Far from it.

It is just beginning.