There's a peculiar kind of beauty that can only be experienced with the innate knowledge that the moment is fleeting and the most intense beauty can only be seen in the presence of both light and shadows. For itβs often in the loss of a thing that its worth to us becomes most precious and by letting it go with grace we can best savor its purest delights. Realizing that the pain runs so deep only because the beauty ran so deep and that without it having once touched us we wouldn't now know the emptiness of its loss, our grief will eventually turn to thankfulness that it ever touched us at all, and we will be left awed by the mystery of its haunting.