There are days—like this—when I wish my hugs would be enough to make you feel better, when my kisses would heal the parts that matter.
I sometimes hope my love could defy reality, but I know that my inability is for the better. There would be no more need for time. There would be no more point in it all. It is better like this, to take time in it all.
Wounds take time to heal. And love, instead of making it go away, can help alleviate the pain.
I wish to do the same.