I’m writing about you now and I find it ironic. I do not even know how you look like or how you talk, how you act. I write about you because I am waiting for you.
We have probably met before, in our dreams or maybe even in reality, but we did not realize it. We will meet again at some point and then it will be forever.
I do not want you to come on a white horse or dressed in the suit. I do not want you to come to my door with a bouquet of roses. I do not like the flowers, I think they wander too fast and nothing remains after that, just the memory. I do not even want you to write love poems. I want you, as you are. Sincere. Present. I want you here today, tomorrow and forever. Do I ask for too much?
And yet I’m afraid. How will I realize that is you? How will I recognize you? How can I be sure I will not lose you? It would be a shame to know that I met you and just as quickly as that I also lost you. How would my heart bear this loss? But let’s not think of the end when we have no beginning yet.
Until then, come faster cause I already miss you. I have missed you for a lifetime, does it not seem too much to you? I’m looking for you in the crowd, I imagine that is you in every person I meet. Come on, let’s meet. And I’m afraid. I’m afraid that you’ve lost yourself in the crowd of souls and you can not find the way to me. Come. Without a horse, without flowers, without vain promises that you do not believe either. Just take your shirt on and let’s meet.
And when we meet, what do we do? Will it be the moment that changes the course of two destinies?
I do not want to ruin everything before I even start. Imagining, dreaming. I’d rather let it all happen by itself.
Let’s meet on a basic, normal day, two strangers on the verge of changing their destinies. Hurry up, because I miss you.