They are repercussions of the greatest hurts, caused always only by the people who have a hold on you; the people who matter.
And being the sentimental sort who feels even before realising exactly why, something always reminds me of one or another – by way of a moment shared, a special differentiation, an inspiration, an unexpected identification… Before the pangs.
Tonight it was the moon, on the cusp of fullness, that got me.
It is the memories that allow you to keep the stories, but also shape the untold ones.
Is to be sentimental and emotional to be weak? Being more aware, sensing and feeling is a double-edged sword – a blessing or a curse?