"There ain't no cure for love."
-- Leonard Cohen
The lament is gone.
My love isn't. I'm still smitten when we're together and, at least at the moment of separation, heartbroken down to my bones when we part - if anything, the love of you that fills my throat is richer and more complex.
But nonetheless, the lament is gone. The keen and the protest are done. In short, I give up. You are not mine. I don't know that you love me. I do know that you certainly love someone else. It doesn't change my feelings and they still don't matter. I should love who I'm with. Accept it all or go mad.
At long last, I have.
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