Lost

Every action changes our fate.

Every choice is the death of all other possibilities.

‘To thine own self be true’ Polonius, Act 1 Scene 3, Hamlet

The Winter Palace sleeps in a cold blue dawn of stillness. Oh that it could sleep forever like this, frozen in time. Hard is the soil. Still is the air Gentle the sky And when the morning breaks that it should stay undisturbed. Oh morning do not come and bring your horror. But morning broke…

How do you let someone go? How do you understand that that’s alright, that everything changes? How do you find a way to make you feel good about life instead of breaking your heart? The hardest thing you’ll ever learn is how to say goodbye.