There Are So Many Ways To Be

We Met Each Other When We Were Young, Before We Knew Enough About Disappointment, And Once We Did We Found We Reminded Each Other Of It.

The Accolades, Just Like The Scrapes And Bruises, Fade In The End, And All You're Left With Is Your Ambition.

To Touch And Feel Each Thing In The World, To Know It By Sight And By Name, And Then To Know It With Your Eyes Closed So That When Something Is Gone, It Can Be Recognized By The Shape Of Its Absence. So That You Can Continue To Possess The Lost, Because Absence Is The Only Constant Thing. Because You Can Get Free Of Everything Except The Space Where Things Have Been.

You're Looking For Ways Always As The Writer To Bring Readers Into Intimacy, You With Them With You. Photos Can Sometimes Do The Opposite, Create Distance And Perspective, But These Somehow Didn't. They Somehow Bring The Reader Closer.

Don’t You See?” I Said. “he Could Change Every Detail, But He Couldn’t Change Her.” “but Why?” His Obtuseness Frustrated Me. “because He Was In Love With Her!” I Said. “because, To Him, She Was The Only Thing That Was Real.