I know, Bubba. I need to stop this sadness and get to concentrating on growing that baby. Don't know why the ennui came. Not right now. But I know it took seed too deep for me to handle by myself this time. I am moving forward and there's something there just out of grasp. I can almost taste it.

I have a will of iron thrust through stone. It can only be broken intentionally, through conscious decision. Even sadness, or dispair cannot breach the forge. I am an intentional being.

I will find you again, in the next life, and we will be different people. Passing again, and stopping briefly, and you'll move on as I move past. Over and over, eyes may meet and arms touch briefly, until we are ready, until we learn the purpose of our descent. I almost touched it this time. But still we were over before we really began. Not what I wanted, but seemingly, it feeling right. And the world moves on with purpose, fast. And in stillness I stand, gazing at the passing sky in all it's glory, furiously passing, and I marvel, sighing deep.

And the deep red crush bleeds in swirls, burning in a ring of fire, melting.

Skye Marie, Skye Marie, you were in my mind and in my heart, but never became. Should I name the future child for you.