Letters to My Lover #1

Poems and prose about love, loss, and heartbreak.

Image provided by Unsplash

Lovers in the night.

We were lovers in the night.

The stars shone upon us who dared follow their whims, to meet their wagers of folly and fate.

Dear _,

Perhaps it was star-crossed from the beginning. A joke of the universe. The heavens colluded to let us meet and just as quickly let us part.

Perhaps it was all my wishful thinking.

But, Lover, do you know? Do you know how much I felt with you? How much I believed?

If quantum worlds exist, I saw them then — under the night sky in your arms. I saw a future of Us, brilliantly clear.

You may never realize how significant this was. I’d never wanted the homely life; painful memories abound. Yet, deep down — it’s clear to me now — I crave commitment and longing and respect.

In one gentle stroke down my arm, you had me fell. Touch is a strange thing; you can tell so much from it. Your touch was gentle, divine, affectionate. Your touch melted the ice around my heart, the hurt around my soul.

I’d never felt so comfortable.

So when you reached up to clear the strands from my cheek, I snuggled in close … closer … closest. I turned my face up and sought you in the dark. I let you kiss me. I let you want me.

I felt, Here is someone who knows how to treat me.

Let me tell you a little secret:

Is this love? I asked the stars.

No, they whispered back. Not yet, at least.

Resting my head on your chest, I heard your heartbeat pacing, accelerating. Past lovers’ heartbeats I never could hear, no matter how I tried. I took it as a sign.

You traced my arm with your fingertips… once, twice, the third time softening to a lullaby. Affection personified. I felt my walls collapse.

And if I needed any more assurance, it was your sleeping face next to mine, our second night, bathed in blissful calm. I want to wake up next to you forever.

That’s when I knew.

Is this love? Does it matter, if I want to spend the rest of my life with you?

Is this love? Does it matter, if I care?

You gave me courage to explore the world on my own terms. You inspired me — still inspire me. Possibilities opened up before my eyes. I wanted to share them with you.

And in time, Love came.

Our encounter was the stuff of myth, unexpected and wild. I felt special. Our experience was genuinely special; it can never be replicated again. This pull of our souls, I thought you felt it too.

…

So why did you go to her, then?

Why did you go to all of them?

Was I such an insignificant blip on your map? Did you really never consider Us? Was I wrong in my feelings; in that we had something?

You say she’s the One. The One two weeks later.

My heart bleeds.

…

There are things I can’t tell you now, so I’ll say them here instead.

I love you.

I loved you.

I fell in love with your spirit and dancing and energy. I fell in love with your voice, your soul.

I wanted to share all your scars and dreams… to hold you close and wipe your tears. I wanted to be your home.

I thought I’d found a home in you. “We fit well together,” you said, or did you only mean the sex?

Would it have made a difference if I’d said it out loud?

Our last embrace, “I don’t want to leave you.”

Instead, unspoken words.

An interrupted kiss.

A chance missed.

I would’ve moved mountains to be with you.

Now I’m trying to close the door to my gaping heart.

…

These words may never reach you. Consider them fiction if they do.

But in the quiet, I still wonder, the stars out to sea:

When you look up at the night sky, do you remember me?