“I’m writing this somewhere secret, and green, and beautiful..
Sparkling water and intoxicating seclusion That I should be drinking in with relief.
But all I can think of is how badly I wish you were here with me to share in this solitude.
We could wander for hours amongst blossoming weeds, and forget what happened that left us bereft”
I have a beautiful and magical secret pond that I’ve found in my suburban neighborhood full of rules and watching eyes. For the first time since I moved here, I have somewhere I can sit and breathe. It makes me miss my loved one, but pain can become beautiful.