The little box

She lays there alone,
remembering so many memories.
The greatest months of her life,
it was shared with him.

She sat near the fireplace,
remembering his laugh, his voice.
The pain was great,
yet there was no regret.

She learned so much in that time,
learned what love was,
what loss, pain, believing, forgiveness.
All so fast, yet the greatest impact.

Then she remembers,
the story she hid.
Down in the small room,
there lay the box.

Dusty and alone it lay,
been touched by none since the end.
She opened it, slowly, smiling at it;
like an old friend.

"hello there," she whispered as she reached in.
There lay the necklace that used to carry her heart,
the letter that became her words,
the diary that told her life.

She teared, happy that she had the chance.
Never would she say she lost something,
all she did was gain.
Gain love, gain pain, gain wisdom.

She smiled one last time,
closed the little box and placed it back to its dusty place.
As said for all,
It's better loved and lost, than never been loved at all.