star-crossed lovers.

That one stolen postmortem kiss after Henry had died and his past self had returned to the meadow when Alba was 9 and Claire had ran all the way through the forest to hold him again, that anticipation when Claire and Henry were moving towards each other, that intense vacillation between whether Henry would disappear into thin air or not. That moment when they finally made bodily contact and melted into a mutual embrace, and then that painful moment when his clothes had collapsed under the pressure of an empty presence. That ear-splitting silence when Henry was no more. Again.

That’s when I would have wished the man I love would stay in the grave and quit haunting me. No, I wouldn’t give an arm and leg to have you back for one kiss and then lose you all over again. I think it’s painful enough to lose once. To lose someone over, and over, and over, again, you might as well stab her at repeated intervals in an infected wound that never closes, not enough to kill, but enough to cause a pain that never dulls.

But then again, theirs is a story of fate. Trapped in an irrevocable cycle of cause and effect in a warped realm where free will does not exist. 

I can’t believe they left out the part Henry saw her again when she was 82 (?). Because that was the most heartbreaking closure I’ve ever seen. And it’s what made the ending perfectly cruel. How Claire’s whole life can be summed up as a futile longing for Henry, her whole life in wait for him, from 6 to 82. Can’t believe they left the story hanging like that.

And I just feel such a sense of regret at how they wasted time fighting each other and being apart rather than…but you know, it’s pointless. We can never see our whole life in perspective. Maybe when we do manage that, we’d learn to love better.

If I had only known, it was the last walk in the rain
I’d keep you out for hours in the storm
I would hold your hand like a lifeline to my heart
Underneath the thunder we’d be warm
If I had only known, it was our last walk in the rain

If I had only known, I’d never hear your voice again
I’d memorize each thing you ever said
And on those lonely nights, I could think of them once more
Keep your words alive inside my head
If I had only known, I’d never hear your voice again

And when we do finally know, we’d wish we could take back every single word we said in anger and replace them with words of love, we’d wish we could delete every fight and keep the track on a constant loop of appreciation. We’d wish we never hesitated, never held back, and that we’d gave it our all. But then when we do know, we can’t change the past.

If I had only known – Reba McEntire


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