The distance that sets us apart seems so vast when you compare the distance of our hearts. Meant to be? Possibly, something I can see, as if anything is ever a guarantee. I find a void to fill the ache, in the little things, the little moments we share, the words that always care.
I am not sure if I love because of love. Or simply, because of who you have become, always undone, never finished.
The world continues spin 'round, as you continue to grow. As the roots anchor themselves, truth impedes the plot. But the distance we will be apart cannot compare, to the distance that once was between our hearts.