What is a relationship? Does it matter how it started? Does it matter that it is different? Does it matter to not know where it is going?

Can't it just be a thing that IS? Not to be overanalyzed, overthought, overfelt.

Complex, delicate, individual. A snowflake still falling, immaculate.

Even if it is must eventually melt, does that make it any less perfect?

Perhaps it will fall, forever.

-writing in Kay's Notebook