There is nothing more bitter than past happiness. Nothing crueler than larger-than-life dreamy moments of perfection that get stuck in time. Feeling the passage of time is a strange thing. You aren't supposed to notice it go day by day, are you? And yet, at some point in life, you do. As if you are running late. For life.
There isn't much left to say or do. Never before has hope seemed so cruel and so indispensable at the same time.