It's crazy that every moment of our lives makes us but, at the same time, also takes a piece of who we are. A little bit of our laughter, a little bit of our tears. A little bit of our song, a little bit of our sigh. A little bit of our satisfaction from having reached a grand height of four and three quarters that year.
These facets twine together to make memories for you, for me. Ones we carry in the deepest parts of our souls. We reach for them to feel whatever came with them, to remember what it was like to be alive in those moments. But we can't quite taste that apple pie from our 15th birthday dinners. We can't quite hear the jingle jangle of our parents' keys as they stumble through the back door after a long day of work. We can't quite touch the soft coats of our furry best friends as we quietly say goodbye to them.
So, then, in those spots from where our laughing, crying, singing, sighing, growing have been borrowed, we ache. As we ache, we begin to crave.
We crave the hopes of tomorrow in place of missing yesterday's fading joys, and we pray that, someday, we can simply live in another moment that reminds us of sitting under the stars with a group of friends and a sense of endless possibilities.