I should have married you,
moved to San Francisco to be with you,
found some way to make a living there,
never allowed a single night apart.
There will never be another love like that.
Not in this life.
We were... too young... to know this.
Except that, we did know it.
It was our peculiar arrogance at that time - or mine, anyway - to
believe that love conquers all.
Foolish children.
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© 2002-2012 Mark Phillips.
All rights reserved.
This writing is fiction. Please don't confuse it with reality.