I Know There Is A Moral To

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.

She Struggled With Her Sadness, But Tried To Conceal It, To Divide It Into Smaller And Smaller Parts And Scatter These In Places She Thought No One Would Find Them.

He Wondered If What He Had Taken For The Richness Of Silence Was Really The Poverty Of Never Being Heard [...]. How Could He Have Forgotten What He Had Always Known: There Is No Match For The Silence Of God.

I Do Realize That The Reader Needs Some Form Of Resolution. Sometimes I Think Of It Almost Like Writing A Musical Score Where Things Have To Harmonize And Certain Lines Have To Come To A Close.

The Truth Is That She Told Me She Couldn't Love Me. When She Said Goodbye, She Was Saying Goodbye Forever. And Yet. I Made Myself Forget. I Don't Know Why. I Keep Asking Myself. But I Did.