I dreamed of a store having some kind of special. I was shopping and a woman came up near me and made an interesting comment. I remember dark hair and eyes piercing enough to cause pain. I remember her tall but when she moved away she was shorter. But it was the eyes and her voice, her words that captivated. There is a whole story of loss and courage, of redemption. But I don’t care to tell it. Instead I’ll dwell on the waking. I wake to my half attempts. My mistakes. To a love I lost. A love I’ll never earn. A love who’ll never love me in the way that I love her. And a potential that burned itself down on the altar of physical pleasure. I keep searching and I only seem to accumulate pain and the frailty of the possible.

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