All These Tears, And Like A Light, Love Disappears, But Hearts Are Good For Souvenirs, And Memories Are Forever
The heart forgives the heart forgets
But what will I do now with all this time
I know love isn't supposed to be perfect and it's not always going to be beautiful, but as I take a look back on all the relationships and friendships I've had in the past I can take a look at Tara and I, and think that there's something I did right. I wasn't particularly mean to her, we didn't fight any more than normal, and I certainly gave everything I had to give. The fact that it didn't work isn't so much a testament to my effort or her effort or the lack of chemistry. The fact that it didn't work says a lot more about the fickle nature of love and happiness. I think in some other life we could have been happy. I think in some other life the differences in idealogies could have been ironed out and the strength of our affection for one another would have been enough to carry us through. But in our reality there was too much stacked against us.
But I do not mourn the loss of that special quality I had with her the way I mourn other people like Jina or DeAnn or even Jennifer. I think the saving grace of Tara breaking up with me is the fact I gave 100% of what I could do and who I could be to that woman. I didn't even leave anything to indecision. I made my play, took my chance, and got shot down. But it's just like they say--you miss 100% of the shots you never take. And with her I took my shot.
That's probably why I carry away with me only good memories of Tara and our short time together. I don't remember her breaking up with me or all the tears. What I remember most is that first kiss in the movie theater parking lot. I remember our night spent talking on the beach. I remember our first dinner together. I remember falling in love with her and hoping that feeling would never end.
And, even when it did end, I kept the stars. She had a set of a hundred of them above her bedroom way back when. When we started going out she gave me three so "that we could sleep underneath the same stars." And, at night, when I happen to open up my eyes and see those three stars glowing brightly on my ceiling, I smile thinking that we may still be sleeping underneath the same set of stars.
P.S. - Much gratitude goes out to Kellie, who allowed me to raid her closet for such a great picture that perfectly captures so much of what I was thinking about when I wrote this post.