Walking by the sea, I pick up a
starfish that is missing an arm. Losing you has been like that, like
a limb actually was torn from my body.
As I gently place it back on the
sand, I notice that despite the cruel amputation, a marvelous and
beautiful creature has survived. And I remember the miracle of the
starfish: the arm will grow back, and it will be whole once again.
I wake, haunted by a searing sense of the unfinished. By how things might have been. If only I possessed the magic power to give us a second chance. But I am no wizard; the trick I must perform is to accept what is.
If I could tell you my one regret, it
would be that I didn't love you better. I had always intended to
improve upon that, because you deserved to be well loved.
And if you could tell me your one
regret, it would be that everyone deserves to be well loved. With
that in mind, I will lend the world whatever energy I still posses,
and improve upon things in your name.