The Art Of Losing

It's been almost two years (maybe more) since I wrote this post.
It's short.
It's simple.
Yet, it's a favorite of mine.
...And an always welcome, gentle reminder.

Elizabeth Bishop proclaims, "the art of losing isn't hard to master."

I lost you recently, as if you slipped through my very fingers.
I often wonder if we started over, would our ending be different?

It started out so fresh, like the smell after rain - crisp and clean. It started out full of possibility. It soon became essential and all-consuming, like air for breath or water for growth. We clung to each other with an intensity that could set fire, with a passion that could transform. You told me you loved me; you could not live without me. And so, I fell; I fell hard -- down, down, down to a place from which I may never recover (oh, but I will).

How was I to know the damage that was to be done?

We shared a love that is unrepeatable.
If only it could be rewound...