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In Love with a Memory
So many years ago there once was one I loved so.
Love filled my heart; he was one of such grace.
But that was another time, another place.
Even so when I sit to write he seems to creep back into my mind.
Why does this happen? Why do I look behind?
Is there a mark left that will always remain?
Why, really why, this sad refrain?
I would have travelled far and wide.
Convinced I would be by his side.
I would have left all behind.
But he was real, he knew, I was being blind.
He knew it was not something I could do.
Leave my family; all that I knew.
His heart did not want to pull me away.
Is it any wonder I could love this way?
His kind and gentle heart made me not want to part.
Anger grew I just knew he had double crossed me,
but in my blindness I did not see.
He was sparing me the pain of all left behind.
He knew I would not be happy, he was that kind.
Leave my mother and children of my homeland?
It was not part of a grander plan.
And you may ask; why did he not come to me?
He had little ones; he was the provider you see.
We both thought our marriages were at their end.
But then I dont think we were really quite convinced.
He heard harsh words because of my pain,
and still was kind to me.
Is it any wonder,
I'm in love with a memory?
