Life comes at different paces. There is the wild hectic flurry of life that comes in the early years, attention spans are shorter, love is fleeting, life frantic in all things. There is a time of respit that comes after decades of hard living, harder loving, passion gives way to the knowing touch of a lover that will always be there with the morning light. Here in the end though, nothing is predictable. There are days when you wonder if your lover will be there at the end of the act, let alone the night. There are mornings filled with warm mugs of life, and those that end with shattered glass and blood-stained walls. There are even mornings where you wish the sun wouldn't rise at all, if only to have one more night of lazy kisses from full lips, tired fingers tracing over the soft skin of arms and legs, holding a little tighter than necessary, a begging gesture: never leave me. This is the pace you wait an eternity for, and then it is gone, for now...