My Valentine.

My Valentine.

I suppose I never thought of Valentine’s Day as a winter holiday- but it is here, this time of year, there is a romantic winter-sun-glazed air today- a thick blanket of snow on the roof, smoke puffing away in mini clouds from the chimney, us, melting into a soft couch, curled up next to the one you love, wrapped in a blanket like one, check your formal wear at the door, this is the time for sweatshirts that have lost stiches over the years, and maybe a few holes here and there, a time for quiet reflection and the warmth of your hand, in a state as calm as sleeping but not dreaming, just being, true, it has been a long time, but somehow there is memory in my skin, of feeling, of the warmth, of your heart beating, you never liked when I looked deeply in your eyes, but I could not resist their paradise, all the wrongs, the fights, the words, all seem gone now, just the quiet singular times like these, just curled up, and just being.

I must admit I waver on the issue of “better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all”… I would be bereft of knowing the bliss, but on the other heart be ignorant of the empty chasm, the knowing I could not repair the damage wrought, the wrong thoughts, actions, sheer stupidity or pig headedness, yes, hindsight is pretty spot on, but it is the screaming obviousness of it all that haunts, but then again, I can curl up in my head, stoke a certain memory spark, and in that inner hearth my heart still blazes warmth that sometimes keeps out the cold…

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