He was footprints in the snow.Not all loves are meant to last.Some are meant to grace you briefly,before fading,somehow leaving the impressionthat the world is just a little bit betterbecause you had been touched bysomething so beautiful it was impossibleto grasp.

The rest of the short walk was silent. It was that loud sortof silence where the absence is painful, when there’s so much tosay, but nothing is said.

He loves her for all of the reasons you were afraid to.

Maybe it’s better to be with someone you don’t love too much. Someone you love just enough, but not so much that it could destroy you.