A group of twelve or more cows is called a flink.

Life has its bright sides, some people do like to read about the happy times too. Watching the sun rise and fall, then pining about where the day went is much like the inevitable growth and collapse of love once its gone it feels crappy but it was still beautiful whilst it was there. Thinking about this has got me into thinking that maybe it's not always the ending that matters, it's what happens in between. I did love her and love for all its weaknesses is a wonderful feeling, one which turns an otherwise dull day spent in bed into a memory and one which you treasure. Pictures and postcards never quite tell the story of love, it is the emotion that makes them pictures special. My picture of her is very much still in my heart and although my heart sinks when i think of us a smile will still come to my face, it was never about old couples in the park it was about memories to last that lifetime and sharing something with someone who deserved every single beat my heart jumped for them. Now i start a new chapter but when I read back through my book, I'll make sure i don't skip a single word. Happiness is something that will evade you as long as you search for it, maybe it was just here all along. xo