sometimes in life coincidence is so beautifully poetic and wonderfully tragic--almost always appearing at a time when, in hindsight, it absolutely must manifest itself. living in a paradise so rich with postcard beauty it's easy to overlook what is most meaningful. balance is hard to achieve when the scales are inexorably tipped in favor of pain.
the tragic beauty is the precise moment when it all tumbles, that's most often when clarity is found. the price...everything meaningful and real...comforting and benevolent. what saves the whole fucking mess is hope...that it's not too late to salvage love...and faith that it was meant to be.
