sometimes its hard to breathe.  hard to think of what could have been. hard to think of whats yet to be. to think of losing without having known what you’ve really lost is more frightening than one would think. to have something and recognize it, scary too. or just big. really big. i suppose if one loves then one has to be willing to take what one can get. as much as possible. as often and for as long as it comes. and to hope, i suppose, that it keeps on coming. forever and ever, and ever. and that the breathing continues. sometimes slow, sometimes painful, sometimes fast and unmeasured, but always for you. without hesitation, to know that it is, in whatever form, ideal or not, a loves breath, for you and i. always.