The sun is shining and the heart of this city is singing...but I can only bring myself to embrace the sombre nostalgia that surrounds thoughts of Hannah. I listen to songs that confirm the sorrow that accompanies the enslaught of emotion that arises upon riding through this park-On a day as beautiful as this, around this time last year I first met her...afraid of what I saw; afraid of children for my inability to not relate to all as adults.....overwhelmed with the home my heart had chosen I was a nervous wreck.....and here I am a year later; all alone once again as if nothing had changed or happened at all in the in between days.

This is the bittersweet feeling when one can't help but open the book of memories; for only the most beautiful and meaningful are placed inside-but all photos represent moments that have past and thus moments that can never again be grasped. Thoughts of Hannah I allow myself to think today-perhaps it was this very day last year that I first met you..I do not recall the specific dates...thinking of her as I see all the little girls throwing bread crumbs at the birds..or spinning in circles...running around the trees....I think they all might be her for a split second; and there are tears; I would only want to pick her up and squeeze her; but I would have no right to even stop to say hello if I saw her-but she would say hi to me-of this I am sure....thoughts of her.. feel like looking upon photos of someone loved who is no longer alive'.... but even this description is inadequate for articulting the well of sadness that subsumes memories of our happiest moments together. How pretty the world is painted in the book of memories; it all looks so perfect from where this lonely beast stands today.
I read you stories and you leaned your head on my shoulder; how meaningless this must've been to someone still so innocent..but undoubtedly my heart was softened; days in the park when you could not contain your excitement upon seeing me...I do not know why you liked me so much; perhaps because I tried so hard...I will never pick you up again and spin you around the room; nor will I be there to hide everytime you leave the room...Cordelia said you cried for me when you were sick...I can only imagine how sad it must make her to hear you say my name....all of this seems so tragic some days. You will grow-and I will never know you again. And Cordelia-sweet Cordelia, how I feel your ache today.