I still love you, you know.
Every one of you.
No matter what.
No matter how it ended.
The love just changed shape.
No matter how painful or welcome, or how great a relief or wistful or sad or bittersweet or bitter or desperate or tragic or quiet or resigned or angry or confused our parting.
Before the last goodbye, there was a beginning and there was a middle and there was a nearly-the-end, and we loved each other.
During all of those (minutes/hours/days/weeks/months/years), I loved you as best I could. You loved me as best you could.
So it didn't last forever...so what?
You became part of me when I loved you.
That doesn't change.
You will always have a room in my heart.
There are bedrooms there (painted the exact color of your eyes when you smile) overflowing with satin and gauze and candles and perfume and oil and chocolate and honey and down.
There are living rooms stuffed with well worn furniture, soft worn-out slippers, comfortable blankets, dog-eared books.
There are sunrooms drenched in daylight with wide open windows, wisping in gentle, soft breezes.
There are darkrooms full of half-remembered images where the most fragile stay in hiding.
There are kitchens that nourish and sustain.
And there are unexplored rooms, probably entire undiscovered hallways, possibly other hidden wings. I am quite sure there is no map.
I wish for you all a beautiful Valentine's Day, spent in a way that makes you happy, with somebody who loves you.