House By The Lake

I remember we built a little house by the lake.

A cobblestone path lead up the front porch.

Two armchairs just in place to watch the sunset over the mountains.

The crystal blue water of the lake reminiscent of the little ring

I got made for the day we turn this house into a home.

Fate came in, a wrecking ball swinging wildly, breaking everything in its path.

It was heartbreaking to watch something so beautiful,

now nothing more than rubble.

But many months later,

I took a path down the same cobblestone path and saw you on the other side

and saw you on the other side,

Sitting on what was left of the armchair.

We spoke about many things,

How things had changed over the many months that had passed.

How, despite all our efforts, all signs lead to this very place.

I know it’s going to take some time to build this house again,

I know the water is no longer crystal clear but it still is blue.

I know the mountains seem to have closed in, almost shutting out the sunset.

I know it’s going to take work.

Maybe, even more work than it did to build it the first time,

But I am willing.

To patch up the holes in the wall,

to replace these crooked windows,

to relight the fire, keeping us warm through these cold days.

We embrace while the sun set over the mountains,

Changing the sky into shades of orange, pink, then red.

Reminiscent of a love that once was.

Before we parted for the day,

I felt something strange,

Something nostalgic, familiar.

For that one moment,

I swear our hearts,

beat the same.

And that’s when I knew,

that’s when I knew.


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