Thanksgiving 2024

A while ago, I fell out of love.

“We all want this to last forever.”
We have all said it and pined for it.

It was the twilight of our relationship.

Rain began to fall softly, humid and heavy. Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga’s song, ‘Shallow’ came on the radio. We smiled and sang along as we drove down the expressway back home, stealing glances at each other, hand in hand, but yet each echoing of words left unspoken. The tune sung of melancholic nostalgia and romantic optimism, to cherish what we had in the impermanence of love. But deep down, we knew the ballad we had in our hearts wasn’t meant for each other.

She dropped me off at my place, and we shared a lingering kiss goodbye. I waved and watched her drive away into the night. The rain started to pour heavier, carrying fragments of a forever we couldn’t keep.

The rain kept singing.

Time, like a relentless river, flows onward. A fleeting specter, a flicking candlelight in the wind, a shadow that dances on the edge of our consciousness. Just like the raindrops we cusp in our hands—the tighter we go, the more we lose. In the face of impermanence lies the beauty of its transience. But there are ways to live in the moment; to make the present stay longer. Company. Laughter. Good wine. Hearty conversations. The warm company of friends under the dining light, and the laughter over Thanksgiving dinner.