Is it because we realize the sudden, instant inability to grow with another soul when they look the way we’ve painted them in our earthly minds?
When we hear the rain, and watch lightning light up the orange-gray sky with angry veins, and wonder how the view is from Heaven…
Do we miss Heaven more?
How do you miss something you’ve never seen, like crying for a miscarried dream?
I’ve seen the tears washed up on oceans too powerful to feel in dreams fuzzy like ferns
And let me tell you, they look like tears.