for the first time in years...

For the first time in years, I am stuck sending transmissions into a perpetual void, with no echo but my own.

For the first time in years, my own echo isn't enough.

For the first time in years, I am near to tears over the most trivial of things, and pleased about it.

For the first time in years, I am losing my mind, over something and someone more than myself, over ideas and schemes greater than the self, over times and places and moments as yet un-lived, un-thought, never conceived, and perhaps never to take flight.

And for all the drama it causes, for all the embarrassment and stomach aches and restless nights, for all the potential heart strings snapped and 'wishing I could take it backs'.
I am happy for it, if only for it's validation and reassurance that things have not ended, that that pulsating need still beats, that all things once frozen can again be thawed. For the knowledge that not everything ended with you, and that my fancy and fantasy can once again alight, and begin again, and sustain its own arduous undertaking.