I hope that this game, whatever it is, ends in victories for every party involved. I hope that this is something that you hope for, strive for, and in the end the winnings are split into things that you never expected to win.

Surprise.

Take the fireworks and split them into each individual ember, watch it thrive and live and flare into sparks. Taste the colors with your eyes, feel the warmth and be a part of the moment as it happens. Remember this as it is happening, click. Take a photograph.

The edges sharpen and then soften. The sound cracks in the air mili-seconds after you hear it. You have your hand, a little sweaty perhaps, safely cradled in your love’s hand. He strokes it gently, feeling the same thing at the same moment that you do. The sparkles and sizzle, the frothing billowing edges, the sticky air, the way the embers are dying in their beauty. The living and dying and the way that these things seem inextricably linked. And as you savor this moment, you don’t let this simple thing ruin you. You guard your soul and your soul’s happiness with vigor. “Baby, just breathe,” you whisper.

This now is yours, and no one can take it from you.