They say as you grow older the friends and lovers you held close to your heart drift away. They never say how slow it is. A phone call every day becomes once a week. Soon just a text or two, then nothing in unnumbered days. Months pass by until you realize you've lost track.

We used to be written in the stars–
I swear it.

And I can't decide; were the fates miserable to give us so much time only to take it away– or merciful to let us feel it at all?