It is a freedom of heart,
A freedom of soul, and
A freedom of sadness.
A sadness for what it wasn’t,
But it was real in its own way.
A way that only he and I could have chosen.
Unique to and of itself and the only way it could have been.
It was not like any other, not normal in any sense of the word.
A mockery of love and trust and
Short lived, like all the others before and those yet to come.
But it was our way, a way that refused to give up,
Refused to see the truth,
Refused to accept the inevitable,
And repeatedly refused the freedom it deserved.
So now, it has become another time and just another freedom waiting for relief in the shadows.
Another mockery of the truth and another love in vain.