There's love here, even after the pain. There's affection in the way I think of you without meaning to. There's desire in the silence of my pride, which screams your name every time I close my eyes. We've made mistakes, we've been silent too much, but what's left... hasn't passed. And if you look back at me with the same courage I'm feeling now, you'll see: we still fit together. In a new way, perhaps. More whole, lighter. But love? Love still exists.