I remember you like waves foaming at the shoreline, sometimes up to my toes, most times knee deep. Just like a visible scar with no memories of its formation, there is a familiarity to you. It’s a certain nostalgia, like the theme song of my favorite childhood show, or the scent of a soap my mother washed me with.I must have known some semblance of you, or read you in my favorite stories. Maybe heard you in the whispers of urgent winds, but I understand you.
Almost as if we existed before our existence. Maybe whatever we were wasn’t enough to save us back then. Instead it preserved us within tales throughout history, of two people who almost got it right, who were so close to the perfect ending. Maybe that was the problem. I am beginning to believe we were lovers in past lives, reincarnated each lifetime to do better than before. But in the tales I’m drawn to, our ever afters are more entwined in tragedy than happiness.
Maybe this time we apply lessons from our past. We will swear to not be so hasty. To not be so consumed by the embers of lust that we become animals and lose to desire. You are not Romeo, neither am I Juliet. We do not have a feud to quell, so be patient loved one. I am yours as you are mine and whatever I am will always find you.
And Honesty will be our host while we dine with Mercy. Love is a regular guest, but forever requires the sustenance that will only be governed when we share a table with all three. May our Love be governed by Honesty and Mercy.
This time we also learn the language our love is most fluent in. A thousand roses are nothing if your heart cannot communicate it’s secrets unto mine. Whatever darkness you fear to let out, I have it too. Whatever ugliness you think your soul harbors, mine is the same cloth of ugly. Whatever you have, I am sure I was born with. We accept each other only when we accept ourselves and we cannot do that if one does not understand what the other speaks.
We will love to the cusp of madness, but we will learn to keep each other sane. If we succumb to the madness then let us only be Qays (Majnun). To love so much that we become void of temptations of this world. We will begin with God and end with God. We will know nothing but to love each other through God.
Maybe this time we will be greeted by old age with my fingers wrapped around the atlas of your arms. I want to know how deep your wrinkles run when you smile at whatever fruits the patience of our love would have labored. I cannot wait to love you until we are dust.
But even if we fail in this life again, may I still be given the honor of loving you a thousand different ways in a thousand different lifetimes.