I Would Love To Write A Mystery

Twice We Stood Beside Each Other At The Altar, Rosie. Twice. And Twice We Got It Wrong. I Needed You To Be There For My Wedding Day But I Was Too Stupid To See That I Needed You To Be The Reason For My Wedding Day. But We Got It All Wrong.

A Veil Hangs Between The Two Opposites, A Mere Slip Of A Thing That Is Transparent To Warn Us Or Comfort Us. You Hate Now But Look Through This Veil And See The Possibility Of Love; You're Sad Now But Look Through To The Other Side And See Happiness. Absolute Composure To A Complete Mess - It Happens So Quickly, All In The Blink Of An Eye.

She Didn't Feel Thirty. But Then Again Again, What Was Being Thirty Supposed To Feel Like? When She Was Younger, Thirty Seemed So Far Away, She Thought That A Woman Of That Age Would Be So Wise And Knowledgeable, So Settled In Her Life With A Husband And Children And A Career. She Had None Of Those Things. She Still Felt As Clueless As She Had Felt When She Was Twenty, Only With A Few More Gray Hairs And Crow's Feet Around Her Eyes.

Your Heart Can Break At Any Age.

So Many Objects, So Many Memories. Each Was Being Labelled And Packed Away In Bags Just As It Was In Her Mind. To Be Stored In An Area That Would Sometime Be Called Upon To Teach And Help In Future Life.