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I have in my heart the words of many artists spoken in prose. Bob Dylan is closest to me, giving me lyrics for decades that my heart felt but my mind couldn't form.
As men, we always believe that time will heal two hearts. Ours, and hers. Troubadours often sing of when two will: Meet again on the avenue - Bob Dylan
As is truly known, they most often don't
Though the hearts may heal, and minds yearn to know the final outcome, or more often, desire a second chance at that lost love, in reality, it is rare that it happens.
I continue with Pink Floyd, Jim Croce, Crosby/Stills/Nash, Elvis Costello, Gordon Lightfoot, Patsy Cline, Cowboy Junkies, Roy Orbison and, naturally, Elvis Presley.
Now, I could go on listing dozens more. But that is only background for what I really want to say here. Additional background comes in the form of lyrics to set my stage:
Turning back the pages to the times I love best,
I wonder if she'll ever do the same
- Gordon Lightfoot
So now is when I won't speak in prose. Stephanie ... you offered hope in your final words to me, that I may find another. You told me I deserve love and you wanted me to find it.
I must tell you this: There is no reason to look. You were the soul that I didn't deserve to love. You were the queen of my heart then and so you still are. I remain solitary and rarely go through the effort to seek another, the search is fruitless, after all, because, how can I replace the perfect woman?
If these words should one day cross your path, I know our time is years past and to never come again. I suppose I am melancholy for one thing. That I could meet the one your heart strove for while we were together.
I see through mists the two of you together and I see the glow of your heart, the beam in your eyes and that beautiful smile on your lips. That is what I wish for you, love.
That is the image that gives me rest