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Unrequited Life
© by Steve Lenane

Even now, on the brink, in despair, and at my most desperate, I still don't know what I want this to be. So many things. Everything. I want it to be special. I want this to be worthy of you. Therein lies my problem. I don't know who you are or even if you exist... You're the only one who knows for sure, and you alone can judge whether this letter is yours...

Another year, back where I started. Another year, clean, untouched, and full of promise - you might one day call my name... And how might this one day be read and received? On bended knee? As reassurance? Or something put away and rediscovered half-forgotten? ... Will there be anything to celebrate in that re-acquaintance? Or will this remain sole witness to a sad testament of regret... An unrequited life.

I still remember a picture I once saw of a soldier coming home or going off to war. She’d just leaped into his arms, entwined as tightly as two people ever could be. There was no place she'd rather be, and no one else she'd rather be there with... I've known many places, said so many good-bye’s. But until I entertained the notion, the hope, the dream I had of you, I never knew what I was missing out on, or what was missing in me... Are you only a dream?

Rarely seen or easily described; With passion, humor, and commitment, it can only make the icing of our shared experiences sweeter and all the more satisfying. A simple recipe you can suit to taste... Something others would envy and admire. Something we could be proud of, and would endure... A single wish, which for a fleeting moment might find you; Particularly distant or uncharacteristically sad, where you laugh unexpectedly or smile without ever knowing why... But can my best judgment and sincerest feelings still lead me, or have I long since lost the ability to even try? ... What then might I have avoided, ignored, or even pushed away?... A split-second that might have been. A minute I missed you by. The moment I lost you to... Left sad or sick or lonely or afraid, hating the very thought of me, for all this time gone by...

But there are no facts to gather, leads to follow, or directions to ask. It's nothing you can buy, bargain for, beg, borrow, or steal. Nothing a single line could ever secure or turn of a phrase ever salvage... Such sweet nothings. Remnants of another day nevermore.
And with every year that passes, I die another death...

I'm lonely and afraid... I can't remember a time when I wasn't... A chill wind, a whispered prayer, a desolate sigh fills this lonely, inhospitable place, where even hope begins to crumble and betray me, and life’s outlived its purpose... But I have to believe, believe there’s still some reason? Someone who still needs me?...

And as the last, desperate moments slip away and the chimes of midnight ring, the emotions come flooding back, and I’m still here to say, hold on. Hold on... I will find you, one fine day.

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