Life happens so fast.
Each of us is has a world behind our eyes, infinitely complex and enigmatic; full of hopes and dreams and fears and regrets. It’s so amazing being able to peer into someone else’s world. It makes it all worth it when our paths cross and we find perfect moments together where all the problems and fears and monsters in our worlds don’t matter.
Those perfect moments are always so fleeting. They come and go in an instant, but that instant is like a world all in its own.
You spend years thinking about moments, contemplating what you could have done differently to make the moment last a little longer. But in the end all we have is our memory of the moments when nothing mattered but the joy of a smile or the feel of a hand in yours. The heart that tried its hardest for that one last beat, or the gentle kiss on the back of your neck.
They all had to end, and there was sorrow and remorse and there were tears and the writhing, insatiable agony of regret. But you looked up because more moments always came.
Eventually all you can remember is the photobook in your mind of the blurry pictures of the moments you treasure most. You wish you could go back. You know if you could just reach it, you could stretch the lost moments out and fix everything that ever went wrong.
But you can’t.
And eventually you learn to put them neatly in your photobook and wipe the tears and struggle to find the will to take the next breath, hoping it will lead you to another moment worth crying for.