Mopping up the memories during a time I thought would last. The south of France and in love like a movie set in the stars. We drove on motorbike as the wind kissed my skin. I loved him more and more with each day. Though life changes and so do we. Some of us can hold the magic as it flies.

Others get tangled in our own webs and struggle to clean the mess. We get upset and walk away. Tears fill the void that once held hands. What remains are pretty pictures. Love is not the only marker of matter. It is one of them. The in between the person we grow into can be pretty fascinating. 

The silence between love gives the gap that becomes oneself. Not connected but detached from pleasing and wanting to listening. Silently flipping pages and warming tea glances. Simple comforts understood. We are the images that become truth. Stop looking at what is gone and make the heart glad.

Used to be our summer regular.

The south of France – St Tropez beach club.

Always sunny and fun.

Monaco