The Youth We Can Never Get Back

If meeting was fated, then how cruel fate must be. If meeting was fated, then how merciful fate must be. If they had already met, why push each other away? If they loved each other, why couldn’t they stay together? Youth was like the early summer, when pear blossoms bloomed: warm, gentle, fragrant, and pure. To meet you in those years was either an accident or a beautiful blessing.