Remember me as a time of day

I swear, though, there was a moment when my optimism was in a wonderful flourish and I could actually let go of everything. You live and you laugh and sometimes you hurt. There are some pains that have never left me, not in the haze of drunkenness, or the pride of a good deed, not in the blinding sunlight from a perfect summer afternoon, nor the depths of a dark night. Remembering my expectations from some months ago help me understand that this is a natural, although meandering, course. But there are words to be said. About the height of that optimism and the reprieve that I came to know by the scent of her long dark hair.