I awoke filled with the knowledge of you. It was not a dream.
I stood alone on a high balcony, which overlooked a great expansive, high-pillared hall. I looked down upon a large milling crowd of elegantly dressed people. At first, I sensed your presence among them … and then I saw you—your exquisitely lovely face, the indescribable natural grace of your movements, your pensive gaze that touched my heart—and something else that I cannot know or say or dream away—an ineffable eternal knowledge that we shared.
I longed to be with you, to look into your eyes, hear your voice, to touch and hold you. I knew at once, profoundly, that I had always loved you and that you had always loved me.
It was not a moment in time for time ceased or was replaced by you. I knew we had been joined forever, beautifully, in a transcendent, eternal truth. I simply knew. Yet I was unable to move or speak.
Oh, dear beautiful soul, how I love and miss you so. You are my missing piece.
You moved, slowly, with those I somehow knew were your friends, toward the far right exit of the great hall. You did not look my way. Not once. I knew you would not, could not. I knew there was a reason for our separation, a reason of great import, though I knew not what it was. Yet I knew we would be together again, though not how or when.
My gaze widened in an attempt to understand where I was—where we were. In that brief moment, time had returned. As the crowd moved slowly out of the great hall I strained to see if you were still there among them, but you were not. You were gone. Had you been there, it would have been impossible to miss you, for we are joined in an intimacy beyond all earthly experience or comprehension.
This is my love letter to you, my dearest one. I cannot know why we are separated in time and space. And why I was able to cross over ever so briefly to witness our love remains a mystery. But if by the same cosmic grace that touched me, you are permitted to read these words, know that any love I have experienced here was an anemic imposter compared to ours.
For now, I can only dream of being reunited with you soon … and forever.
Copyright 2014 Robert D. McKinley