Sunday, October 7, 2007

Inbox 2

Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see him smile or bring him food or tousle his hair or move him around a dance floor.

But when those senses weaken, another heightens.

Memory.

Memory becomes your partner.
You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.

Life has to end.

Love doesn't.

-- Mitch Albom "The Five People You Meet in Heaven"

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