The stubborn rays of sunlight streaming through the blinds and falling onto my somnolent eyes are not nuisances this morning, but still I refuse to open my eyes. From a distance, I could heard the euphony of chirping birds and the wind caressing the pages of the half-read hardbound by the window, but still I refuse to drown in the melody. The sheets smell of cigarettes and moth balls and you and me, but still I refuse to lose sobriety to the scent of us. You, here beside me, whisper my name once and the hair on my skin rise as if every fiber of my body is pulled on by your overwhelming gravity. I cannot refuse.

Had we met in another lifetime, or, at the very least, had the circumstances of our acquaintance been different, then I assure you that there would have never again been a need for you and I to trouble ourselves with the savagery of loneliness and misery. Alas, fate has a penchant for making fools of us all. With the here and the now, I’m afraid all I have to offer you are my words strung together with affection, and the assurance that no matter how far apart the winds may carry us, you will never be forgotten.

And so in every brief moment that I share with you, I reach out with my invisible fingers until I may someday find our spirits in a sacred and infinite embrace. In that embrace, we will put together what Zeus tore apart. We are the missing pieces to one primal nature. We are one truth never to be among those who sway in the windy depths; they make love a vice rather than a virtue. Our love will be good. Our love will be beautiful. Our love will put theirs to shame.

I want to wake up on your bed to see the morning light streaming through your blinds landing on your face. I want to lie close enough to see the colors of the rainbow reflected on the sweat on your skin. I want to fly across every mountain, every valley of the world if only to trace every mountain, every valley of your body.

I would have shown you the strands of stories that have woven together like a quilt made of patches of experiences. I would have told you every moment I’ve ever had recited in an imagined chronology as if the order gave sense to it all. I would have let you take my hand so you could have felt my entire existence in that one touch.

You would have me discuss in detail the flaws of Adam Smith’s cause and I would have you recite the value of pi to the digit fifty-ninth. But this was just small talk, and you and I knew it for we didn’t even need chalk to draw our joint path ending at the fork on the road where we lose sight of the point and the purpose of this plight. This was no existential dilemma of the meaning of life and existence but rather this was the question faced by two people who once shared expressions but were now just falling apart. And I’m left assessing this thing that I’m sensing of our regressing feelings. To be honest, it’s depressing!

But then you looked at me and you understood. You had me touch you again and again and again until I felt you. I felt your insides down to the cell in the tides of your blood in your bone marrow. I felt it and for a moment, it was mine again. It was mine because I had my entire self wrapped around that single cell of yours. And if we follow the magic of the logic (and you know we usually do) then simplified, you are mine because I had myself multiplied to envelope every atom in your body as we moved to a silent rhapsody. And this - you and I - could go on infinitely because my every experience with you, down to the last minute, all of those are infinite. In our stretch of eternity, we become those experiences as they become we. And we come to realize that at the end of the day, this, my love, is communion - it’s me inside you becoming me.