"Infinity" What comes into your mind?

Some say they see gray hair, rocking chairs and old worn-out clothes.
Some would say they'd hear church bells, vows, they'd see rings.
Some say they see it through the eyes of a mother, conceiving an unborn child.
Some say they see it in stars, so wide, so vast, so distant, immeasurable. Too far.
Some see it in uncertain future time.

But when asked, "What do you see in infinity?"
I'd smile and answer.  

"I see cold coffees, I see dinner dates, I see your smile, I hear our laughs, I hear our favorite songs and I once again feel that impalpable comfort I find in your voice.
But,
I also hear your good-byes, I hear your costant apologies, I hear my muffled cries in the middle if the night and I see those unsent letters I should've given you a long, long time ago."

Sad but true. That's what I see. But maybe, that was our own infinity.

Maybe some infinities aren't just as beautiful and worth telling as others,

Maybe some infinites are larger than other infinities,

Maybe ours lingered on the corners of that restaurant where we met and stayed on that streetside where you left,

Maybe our infinity, ended a long time ago, long before we decided to let it go,

Maybe your infinity and mine meant to go on parallel lines,

But, maybe infinities aren't meant to last, cause maybe true infinity comes when you don't have to question "How long" but "How real"

Once a man came up to see
A rose in hand he gave to me
With furrowed brows I took hold of his precious gift,
My heart was full of wonder, even so I listened to his lips,
I remember his eyes were a river of hope, so vivid, so clear
"As the sun goes down,
this too will die
keep it close and I'll be back before it withers." he whispered
He did what he promised to,
Every day amid winter,
He never failed his deliver,
A rose was found on my doorstep,
Though he was nowhere to be seen
Until the day came when another man showed up,
A dozen roses of plastic "For you." he said
Full of life, vibrant, and undead
I fell inlove with the idea of never seeing it die,
I forgot the roses left on my doorstep
I gave my heart to the man with plastic roses,
hoping his love would be as beautiful and fervent as it is,
The roses on my doorstep never stopped until my wedding day,
When I said my vows and found out there was something I was missing,
The answer was at the back of the church, when I saw him standing,
With bloodshot eyes, it was my rose he was holding
In a voice in verge of breaking he said:
"I love roses as much as you do,
Until this day I finished a garden made for you,
But of what I see, I'm too late,
I loved you so much I thought love could wait,
Loving you was the most beautiful yet the hardest thing I've done,
As if growing a rose and embracing all her thorns,
As if witnessing beauty after a long wait,
My love is as real, but it will eventually die
Just as when I saw you walking down that aisle,
I dreamed of hearing your promise of a lifetime infront of that altar,
But I saw you saying it from afar
And to a man I wish I was,
Now I have to let you go,
I love you,
For that's all I will ever know."
He gave me the rose he's been holding and left,
With shaky hands, I read the note written,
"The last rose I have given."

"It wasn't simple. Letting you go, I mean. You'll never know how much you ruined me in the process."

Day by day I wake up gasping for air, my lungs weren't that strong enough to contain how badly I wanted to breathe, I became desperate for air.

My nights weren't the same as before, I was terrified of sleeping, of dreaming, of seeing your face along the way, of wanting to hold your hand amid this all.

By morning, I face the mirror with bloodshot eyes, with plump lips from pinning them down with my teeth to keep myself from shouting your name at night, asking you how many times why we let this happen.

I never listen to music, to every sad song, to every stupid love song. I never let them echo thorough my walls of silence. You etched your way through every song I used to listen to, a memory I have longed to forget yet still I remember, so clear, so you.

Now I started writing sad things, everyone questioned how badly I was hurt, you were evident in every work I had. Your name seemed to be between my lines. Blotches of tears stained every paper I used, every crumpled paper thrown away and I guess I'll never be the same.

Sometimes love makes you feel like your the most beautiful thing, and the next time, love doesn't know you anymore.

And if ever you find yourself walking down that boulevard again,

Holding back those tears you've been keeping in for a while after seeing a lone shadow behind you instead of two,

After you've passed through every street and walls your laughs used to echo to,

And until you reach your doorstep
when he used to walk you home,

When he would finally let your hand go,
and whisper words of good and night,

Where he softly let go of words the words good and bye,

Where you listened to the quiet as you saw fate drove him away on that red car,

Remember that as time heals the most grevious of wounds that has pierced your skin,
So it does to the most broken of hearts.