R.M. Dolin, December 23, 2023
It’s more than just the depth of my love, it’s the shattered dream of our most perfect future. I can’t imagine never seeing you again. Never taking quiet walks in the forest or along that lake where the old man shared stories of his phantom fish. Never cycling around Versailles, or holding you in my arms as you sleep because your Paris night is my New Mexico day. I can't imagine never coming back to France or buying our house in the country where we sit for hours beside a warm fire in our restored millstone sanctuary. I can’t conceive a day when my life is no longer tangled with yours.
