I am that gash in her soul.<br><br>Once I loved her really loved her. And she loved me and it was so fucking beautiful.<br><br>Once. That pendulum swings to and fro. We're here and then we're-<br><br>No.<br><br>How can that rare beauty be rendered irrelevant intangible when I still feel so damn much?<br><br>Does all that energy that glory that significance simply dissolve? Turn to smoke? To nothing?<br><br>It can't. It just can't.<br><br>Are the moments that shape us absolutely random? Is time not fluid?<br><br>I made promises to them to her. Especially to her. Promises I still burn to keep.