Utter ecstacy, the highest point of our beings.
Blindness, foolishness, loss.
Unrequited, unfulfilled, unfair?
The care of another.
Family, friends, pets, books, flowers, sunshine...
God, I don't know. I can't think of what to write or what to say about it, at least not in any fashion that's coherent. But the night is no longer young and I should probably be doing that thing they call sleep.