100 Words: Left Behind
May. 20th, 2009 05:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dreamingaloudLove? Don't speak of such things. What do I know of love these days?
That's the trick, dear one. I can't claim to know love. It rushes by too quickly to be recognized. I know it only by the traces it leaves behind, the bumps and chasms that weren't there before. Its aftermath is tracked not by memory, but by the shadows it leaves upon our hearts and minds.
Love runs. It's better not to make chase. To do so is the folly of youth. It's easier to watch the footprints fade into the distance.
Such is love. And life.
That's the trick, dear one. I can't claim to know love. It rushes by too quickly to be recognized. I know it only by the traces it leaves behind, the bumps and chasms that weren't there before. Its aftermath is tracked not by memory, but by the shadows it leaves upon our hearts and minds.
Love runs. It's better not to make chase. To do so is the folly of youth. It's easier to watch the footprints fade into the distance.
Such is love. And life.
