Oh, yes, how I did love him.
I admired his guts.
I trusted him,
he was may pride and joy.
I changed painfully towards the best of me because of him.
I nested with him.
My dreams were his dreams.
My expectations were that he got the best of his aims.
I waited for him long hours in the winter.
I wandered with him beautiful hours in the summer.
I gave to him my purest and strongest hope of love.
I dedicated to him my greatest dream.
We had a couple of the most meaningful talks ever. I mean ever in the civilization perspective.
We had strong and peaceful moments of luxury.
We shall build a better world. We shall be faithul to our beliefs. We had noble beliefs.
We will stick together because of the once in lifetime magic of our encounter.
And then another fall came by and the falling leaves brought  with  them our first and beloved child.
So much beauty, how blessed we were. How thankful we were, how honored.
I finally felt my heart was touched with God's call. I felt fulfilled.
Not for long, though.
Because this so dear moment of a human's life. This graceful and divine time of harvest was not enough to make him happy.
And I keep hearing my father's voice when he told me once : " Sweetie, when you were little and i could take you in my arms, and play, and rock you in the cradle, and tell you histories...Those were the happiest moments of my life". I keep hearing this replaying words in my mind as I grieve. Isn't he the truth itself?
My broken heart aches.
And burns.
And I hang very hard on  the love of the loyal and honored man that my father is. I keep his lessons, I cherish our memories.
Cause  forefront I don't even know how should I dream again.