His little hand sits in hers.
She holds it to guide. She holds it to protect. She holds it to love.
And he gives her his hand.
His hand is not little any more. And his hand does not sit in hers.
Her hand now sits in his.
He holds it to guide. He holds it to protect. He holds it to love.
And she gives him her hand.
Go back to where you played. Back to where your laughs still echo against the walls. Go back to where you fell. Back to where your tears still stain the floor.
Go back to where you read. Back to where your childhood books are still cherished on the shelves. Go back to where you collected treasures. Back to where your childhood memories are still kept in boxes.
And if the ones that played with you to make you laugh. Picked you up to wipe your tears. Brought you books to read to you. And created fond memories for you to go back to – year after year after year.
If they are still there. Linger a while, and have a good visit, a good talk, and a good laugh.
For life always allows us time to love, so long as life is still around.
We might stray sometimes, and we will stray sometimes. If not our bodies, our minds may stray sometimes.
Out of perilous boredom. Out of treacherous curiosity. Out of raw desire.
But we bring ourselves back. To the ones that love us. We should always bring ourselves back. To the ones we love.
When you cross paths with someone you haven’t seen in years. And you get that ‘seems like yesterday’ feeling. And you are awakened by a long forgotten depth of comfort. And you are enwrapped in a warm sense of familiarity. And your conversation picks up from where you left off that very day you parted. And you want to say everything and nothing at the same time. And you are not in a hurry any more. And you want to take the moment entirely before you lose it, but you are at a loss at where to begin.
And so you stop walking, stop talking, stop thinking and simply gaze at each other – longingly.
Then, know you’re still in love.
Life Demiraged 