somebody came up with the notion of impermanence.
Of the beauty and inevitability of change,
I'm pretty sure they had just been dumped.
I had a long time to consider the value of memory.
And the idea that just because something doesn't last forever
doesn't mean its worth is diminished.
Maybe it was just a rationalization.
Easier on the soul than mourning what might have been.
A life unlived.
I honestly don't know.
But I chose to believe in memory.
I chose to believe in her.
I chose to believe that the bond was never broken
and that we carried each other in our hearts.
As a secret singularity.
She made me a writer.
She made me a man.
There would be other loves, even great loves.
But she was right.
Only one remained perfect.
And as a result, it never quite left me alone.
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