When you find real love — protect and preserve the sweetness and intimacy of your gift.

Divide the constant tide and random noisiness of energetic flow, with conscious recurring moments of empty mind, solitude, gratitude and deep…slow…breathing. Of this, the natural law of self-preservation demands.

Love is not a purpose, it’s a paradox; it’s not an end-goal, it’s an auxiliary fuel source to help get there.

She’d said she loved him. She’d put that impossible, unimaginably beautiful gift in his hands and he’d thrown it back at her. To save her. To save himself.