Letters to a non-existential lover

  To them, who I have lost many moments and ink to. They, who only have given me a bruised heart and a well deserved silence.- A  

[puck-21]

Letters to a non-existential lover

To them, who I have lost many moments and ink to. They, who only have given me a bruised heart and a well deserved silence.

- A

[puck-21]

Hiraeth

When you grow up, and leave home, people will ask you if you miss it.

I know they are asking if I miss the posters in my bedroom wall. The way the light hit the kitchen table or the food my mother would make just because I've had a bad day at school. And I do, I miss these things.

But what I miss more is when my father would say he loved me unprompted. When me and my brother could hide in each other's bed to scare away the nightmares. I miss the joy of finding a puddle to jump in without adults telling you that it's no longer acceptable, or the joy of staying out till late playing cards with people I would not see again until next summer. I miss when I didn't know my friends would stab me in the back.

I miss home. I can't go back.

[puck-21]

Today I have dreamt of you again, my heart.

We were laying on the field just past the forest, a cloth spreaded on the grass beneath us while we were basking in the sunlight. My head on your lap, and I felt the warmth of your soul next to mine. I felt your fingers too, running through my hair as if they were the wind playing between waves without haste nor reason.

I smelled the earth around us, still wet from yesterday’s storm, and your french perfume, still as enticing as always. 

You were saying something just to fill the quietness. Maybe about the bees that had arrived to our garden hand in hand with this year’s spring, or about visiting the town to get more strawberries in the market. Either way, you knew I was lost in the birds’ singing. I know it from the way you would call my name from time to time like I was a child, with a tender voice. 

Yet I wasn’t lost in the birds, but in your smile above me, shining brighter than the sun. In the way you furrow your eyebrows and pucker your lips while in deep thinking. In the small wrinkles next to your eyes and mouth from laughing, and Gods I love your laugh. Its sound more pure than a new bell. 

My love, I would have given both my body and mind, and everything I have owned and what I will never have, just to stay in that moment for all the eternity.

Alas, Destiny is a cruel mistress, for when I opened my eyes, face soaked with tears, all that was left for me was a curse on my lips for the bastard that dared to awoke me.

Looking forward to your silence,

- A 

[puck-21]

Sometimes, when it's late at night and I can’t sleep, or when I’m alone waiting for the bus, I’ll carve a different life. I dream of a cottage in a bountiful valley, where all we need is the garden, the river nearby and ourselves.

Even more, I lose myself in a rainy afternoon, too cold to go outside. So we stay in, bundled up in a cozy blanket in front of the hearth. An open book on my lap, forgotten between talks about the infinite and sudden laughs.

Or maybe we put the kettle on and, while waiting for the water to boil, we dance in the middle of the kitchen. Well, not dancing. But we sway slowly while “Work song” plays through the old radio perchen by the countertop. My head on your shoulder, I hum the melody next to your heart while you whisper the lyrics in my ear like a well known secret. In that moment we promise each other eternal love and it rings true.

I’m nostalgic, my love, over a lost reality.

Yours forever and never,

- A