déjà vu

could it really be?

after all these years, could it really still be you? 

at the end of my brief sojourning, here i am again.

giving of myself to you.

illegitimate

The truth was that, around Jalil, Mariam did not feel at all like a harami. For an hour or two every Thursday, when Jalil came to see her, all smiles and gifts and endearments, Mariam felt deserving of all the beauty and bounty that life had to give. And, for this, Mariam loved Jalil. 

Even if she had to share him.

— Khaled Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns