Love letter # 156
When I was young I dreamt of you. I imagined things that made me shiver. Whenever I sat next to you, so close to touching you, I was riven with a desire I knew I could not act on.
Your cool exterior. Your haughty distance. This is the very image of beauty I have carried with me across the plane of the years. The measure by which I have measured others. The weight of my longing. The colour of my love.
Seeing you again – after forever – has made the decades contract to the tiny circle of a warm embrace. I open my eyes and you are there in front of me, that smile of yours still so dazzling.
And your daughter – she carries your spark in her laughter – such that my memory is ablaze. Tonight I am walking with you once more in my dreams, awash in the undimmed shimmer of your mystery, shaking like the foolish boy who loved you in terrified silence all that time ago.
I have nothing to lose now – our paths will diverge again – and so I can say now what I never could back when: how I adored you. You were the treasure of my nascent love and you remain the still perfect idol of my flawed recollection. Even the years have not dulled the splendour of your young form.
These ramblings, I realise, are irrational. But just to say them out loud. To think that you might hear me. That this might make you smile that gorgeous smile of yours. The smile that cracked me open and led me to realise that to love one another was the highest possible honour that could ever be bestowed upon mortal beings.