at first when the rain fell from the sky so wide and deepit smelled like sage, my favorite smellI went up on the plateau to watch it cometo see the gifts it always broughtbut this rain changed from blue to black and leftnothing.

But if you were matched," I say softly, "What do you think she'd be like?""You," he says, almost before I've finished. "You,

It was a little thing, a baby tree, but still it tangled with things around it and required care to move. And when she pulled it out, it's roots still clung to Earth from it's old home.

In the end you can't always choose what to keep.You can only choose how you let it go.

The two of us hold each other's gazes for a long, unembarrassed moment and I feel that Ky knows. I'm not sure what he knows - whether he knows me, or just something about me.

You cannot change your journey if you are unwilling to move at all.

But I didn't see it. I believed him unchanging, a stone in all good senses of the word, solid, dependable, something and someone you could build upon. But he is as we all are: light as air, transient as wisps of cloud before the sun, beautiful and fleeting, and if I ever did truly have hold of him, that has ended now.

Es curioso cómo nos aferramos a los objetos del pasado mientras aguardamos nuestro futuro.

For we are all walking each other to our deaths, and the journey between footsteps makes up our lives(Cassia 'Reached')