It’s the roughness of new pages,
the feeling of a stone, well weathered-
the kind you brush your hand across in awe
as you make your way to the cliffs
and look down at the sea.
It’s something magical, that is.
Knowing that it’s only right now, that you may never go back,
Only makes it moreso.
Take in every detail.
Keep those scents, those sights, those sounds, with you.
Darkness will return, and you will cry.
Let those be your light.
Drown that sadness, as it has done you.