White after labour day.
You will never be a regret of mine. Instead of leaving this wound gather dust in the backyard of our greatest hits, I dug into every triumph and every good fortune life has blessed me with and found the courage to look at you with gratitude. I no longer wonder about your every second. I no longer crave your eyes. I have dunked my love for you in salt water. Cremated all my affections for you and let it blow gently into the the Northern Lights. And when God pull the curtains over the sky, the aurora of our chapter will glow ever so brilliantly to the sailing ship.
Arthur Schopenhauer, Studies in Pessimism (via whyallcaps)