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The motion light flickers on and off underneath a clear night sky, hinting of movement - of life. But tonight, like most nights, it is just the wind causing the trees to sway in front of a dead, mechanical eye that opens for only a brief moment in the hopes to catch some semblence of reality. But like me, it is left only to remember.

On this night I think of being told "I love you" for the first time, and wondering whether I will ever hear it again.

Such happiness is fleeting and it never ceases to amaze me that it is, nevertheless, taken for granted. And so, on this night, I strain to take in something more than memories, in the vain hope that I will appreciate now for now and not as a distant memory months or years down the road.

Time has a way of trading happiness for regret, contentedness for longing, and hope for despair. Maybe one day I will beat it at its game, but that day is not today. Instead I lay dreaming of love, and once again I close my eyes to the winds of regret.

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