Forever

Missed you for so long, to the point I started doubting you had in fact existed, but my imagination could never create the amazing moments of just being by your side. The simplicity of how everything just fitted in, no questions or doubts or anxiety for wanting more, nothing, pure peace, pure clearance of mind, body and spirit, all into a single point in space and time where you and me just were.

But you told me to let go and not constrain in my corporality, the vastness of what we can't understand and only feel through our meditative breath.

Missed you so much, for I lost myself too while searching for you. But you told me not to miss you, and asked me to trust not in my need for stories and facts, but in my intuitive driven belief that you and me still were. And not knowing, we still were who we had been, a you and a me, just happy to be.

"Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time."

_

W.H. Auden

We are beings of time and in time, a time that constrains eternity. From missing you I've learned that. I felt that and breathed in. A moment is not just this second, it's everything all at once.

Yes, you dared to think the unthinkable, you had always hope in yourself while I choose despair. I did not see how defiance would have brought me enough reason to hope. That's when I lost you in your immense kindness of not blaming me for fighting for toughness, instead of just simply holding your hand and letting it go.

Today I let go. Today I trust completely in you, in me, and all that is part of everything we don't see, but feel, the completeness of an expanding unity. Today I whisper gently to you what I've learned from missing you, that man's most precious quality ever is Love.

"(...) I can only say, there we have been: but I cannot say where.And I cannot say, how long, for that is to place it in time.
The inner freedom from the practical desire,
The release from action and suffering, release from the inner
And the outer compulsion, yet surrounded
By a grace of sense, a white light still and moving"
_
T.S. Elliot