
They say that New Year’s Eve is when we say goodbye to the year. But December is formality. The real goodbye happens in those quiet November afternoons.
When the very last of the golden leaves hold out to be painted by the sun.
That moment is the real goodbye. Quiet, private, unexpectedly stumbled upon. And the world around you both stops – just long enough for your heart to understand.
“From my first bloom in spring, to the shade I gave you in summer, my love for you was a joyful fire.
Before I let go, let these dying flames touch your heart one last time.
It was always your love that made me beautiful.
Be the first sight I see in spring so I can love you anew. “
by Michael Williams @moderatelivingblog.com

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