(no subject)
There's a certain loneliness, a special desolation, reserved for those awake at the wee hours of the morning. At 3 or 4 A.M., if you're alone, you are really, truly, inescapably alone. Everyone close or special or significant dwells on the distant shores of sleep, unreachable.
And yet, if you have found someone, someone with whom to weather those hours of isolation, your moments are so much more intimate. With the world asleep, the darkness belongs only to you and to her, to the two of you together. No one else exists any longer to stand between you.
So ephemeral, so vulnerable are those early morning minutes that seem to creep by so slowly and yet are gone so quickly. Time stands still for those lucky pairs still awake, alone, together. All it takes is a light, a voice, an engine, the faintest hint of dawn for time to rouse itself and continue on its course. Life rushes ahead and relegates to merest memory those beautiful, crystalline instants.
And yet, if you have found someone, someone with whom to weather those hours of isolation, your moments are so much more intimate. With the world asleep, the darkness belongs only to you and to her, to the two of you together. No one else exists any longer to stand between you.
So ephemeral, so vulnerable are those early morning minutes that seem to creep by so slowly and yet are gone so quickly. Time stands still for those lucky pairs still awake, alone, together. All it takes is a light, a voice, an engine, the faintest hint of dawn for time to rouse itself and continue on its course. Life rushes ahead and relegates to merest memory those beautiful, crystalline instants.