The fundamental things apply.

 

It was an amazing thing really; stretching seemingly into eternity and yet passing by in the barest blink of an eye. Robbing and giving in equal measures. Stealing one's youth, one's verve, and the blazing fire of self-righteousness that had once burned so fiercely and giving in its place temperance, wisdom, and an easy sense of comfort in one’s own skin that the young never quite seemed to feel.  

Why then, with all that it gave and took, could it not take the pain, the sharp twist of grief for what once was and might yet have been? Why had it not robbed him of the profound yearning and the burning all-consuming regret for foolish youthful deeds that clutched at his heart? Why could it not give peace of mind?  Freedom from the memories that haunted him; waking him in the still of the night, trembling with the cold, dark emptiness that clutched at his soul, drenched in sweat, achingly hard, and sobbing his name? 

With an effort he drew his mind back to the task at hand, focusing once more on the face before him, a face he had not seen in flesh for years, and yet one he knew as well as his own. “Time’s been good to you, Ethan,” he forced out blithely, hoping beyond hope that the other man wouldn’t notice the slight quaver in his voice or the way his hand trembled slightly on the crossbow in his hand.