How strong are the strands that perpetrate the dealing out of endearment?
In the manner of a green stem, the undernourished attachment too easily withers, and is presently assigned to a mere page in the histories of ones life.
Before long appearing as an immoderate assumption of that which may have never existed. An aphorism of one so blighted by the prospect of an elementary, yet lonesome reality.
Alas, this plight may be only a malady of the fractured mind. The byproduct of a fleeting sense of misdirection that suffuses and leads astray.
Better then to foster that kindly face; which wholeheartedly elevates, rather than berates, with the harsh wit of a stranger.
In of itself, it would seem apparent that a decade's worth of knowing thus cools in the shadow of secret schemes.
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