leaving.

beginnings so joyful, endings so sorrowful. coming so easily, the end sneaking up like a thief in the night. a great burst of hope surges forth, ebbing with the tide, still there, held there by God, but pulled back by the end. 


i got to see him this week, and now this chapter is coming to a close. yet not the close of our book, i do hope, but the beginning of the second book in the series, written by love. love, so often personified, is mistakenly so. how can something that has the ability to cause such pain not be real? personification is unnecessary. love can heal, glue, stab, cut. 


love is like a marshmallow, sweet to the taste, sticky and thick in the inside, powdery, light and fluffy on the outside, and causes cavities in some cases, has no affect in others, yet still in others causes severe hyperness. ponder this, my dear reader, as we begin this new year.