To have met and laughed, and to have seen and admired from afar and near.  Then to depart the best of friends, with the brightest of beginnings, and the promises of infinite tomorrows.  But the promises will be left unfulfilled and those tomorrows will never be today.  The beginnings are the endings and the writer left with the ink still un-dried.  One comma out of place in the promissory note and we null and void the fairy tale before it's written.  To live and hope for the rainbow in the sky and fearful that it's just a chance illusion after all.