I saw you that day and realized what love might be like, even ten years from now. You were standing there, as usual, waiting. I crept-up from behind and tapped you on the other shoulder. It would be cliched to say that time stood still for those three hours. And in those three hours, I wanted to fit-in the time I lost with you. My mind was trying to form the things I wanted to say to you, putting them into words and then rejecting them, thinking it would sound silly. I did not want to interrupt you speak so that I could hear your voice.
It took me three years to come to this, the idea of loving you, which would not be overwhelming, all-consuming, trying or tiring. Instead, for the first time in a really long time, I felt relief. There was no hesitation, only a wonderful realization. Were you still waiting for me ? I did not know. But it felt right to love you, no matter what the consequences would be, no matter if I had missed the proverbial bus. I could not stop smiling thinking of this. Waiting at the bus-stop, for my bus which would take me home, I realized that you were home.
Loving you gave me courage and strength. I knew my usual moments of insecurity and doubt would soon rear its head, but I was ready to deal with them. Getting to know you was like getting to know my city. The city grew-up on me and I took time to fall in love with it. But once I did, there was no going back.
I know I haven't been honest about myself with you and for that, I only have my deep regrets and anger at myself. Talking about myself has never been a strong point of mine, especially not when it involves my misdeeds and my follies.
Yet, I did. Not because I needed to share it with someone and lessen my burden, but so that you could know me at my worst. I would do anything to undo that. Sadly that is the biggest lesson one learns, that you cannot undo your actions or take back your words.
Perhaps that day, those three hours are going to be my last memory of you, with the city I love. I regret not going back and telling you how much you mean to me.
As I roam about in this city and think about our conversations, of the places I said I would take you to, relive those three hours in the coffee shop, I realize that you have become inseparable from this city. Perhaps many many years later, it will be okay visiting that coffee shop again and it will be possible to think about Lost Palaces of the North without thinking about you. Perhaps then I will not try to find you anymore.
It took me three years to come to this, the idea of loving you, which would not be overwhelming, all-consuming, trying or tiring. Instead, for the first time in a really long time, I felt relief. There was no hesitation, only a wonderful realization. Were you still waiting for me ? I did not know. But it felt right to love you, no matter what the consequences would be, no matter if I had missed the proverbial bus. I could not stop smiling thinking of this. Waiting at the bus-stop, for my bus which would take me home, I realized that you were home.
Loving you gave me courage and strength. I knew my usual moments of insecurity and doubt would soon rear its head, but I was ready to deal with them. Getting to know you was like getting to know my city. The city grew-up on me and I took time to fall in love with it. But once I did, there was no going back.
I know I haven't been honest about myself with you and for that, I only have my deep regrets and anger at myself. Talking about myself has never been a strong point of mine, especially not when it involves my misdeeds and my follies.
Yet, I did. Not because I needed to share it with someone and lessen my burden, but so that you could know me at my worst. I would do anything to undo that. Sadly that is the biggest lesson one learns, that you cannot undo your actions or take back your words.
Perhaps that day, those three hours are going to be my last memory of you, with the city I love. I regret not going back and telling you how much you mean to me.
As I roam about in this city and think about our conversations, of the places I said I would take you to, relive those three hours in the coffee shop, I realize that you have become inseparable from this city. Perhaps many many years later, it will be okay visiting that coffee shop again and it will be possible to think about Lost Palaces of the North without thinking about you. Perhaps then I will not try to find you anymore.
