MudoraMayer

“Not all those who wander are lost” It seems like I would remember more than just that, a simple memory of a time before the happiness of love. After three years of undying devotion, it’s mind boggling. But I remember it all the same. We were sitting on the bank of the river, watching leaves and deadwood float by, as if from some wreck long ago. I loved her then, but that was before she knew it- before our first embrace, our first kiss. My eyes were fixated on her, and I watched every tender movement; the slight stir of her midnight black hair in the wind, her dark fingers trailing in the water… She looked up then, a