Come To Me Again

I reach my hands up to catch the light, just as I once held you. But you are part of the light now, and I am not.

By In Family, Life, Relationships, Travel 3 minutes

I say your name, hoping it will start the flow of words I so desperately wish to put on this page. Yet once the sound has passed my lips, there is nothing. Only an empty room. I wish to tell you of my feelings, but like the last rays of the sun, you have long since gone.

I know this letter reads as a lover might write, but there is no other way to express what I would say. My heart begs to be near you again. Once, I feared it breaking if I spoke the truth. But the emptiness of silence is far worse than not having an answer.

For this reason, what I would say is a compromise of words and wishes. It’s the only way I can think to express myself. For you’ve long gone beyond the reach of my arms.

Each day, I long to see you, just for a moment. The memory of your voice stays in my mind, and I often think of our walks together. I could lie and tell you I don’t want a lover’s relationship.

But the truth is, I’ve never wanted anything more than this.

Sometimes I think of much we didn’t know about each other. But when you were next to me, and your hand was in mine, I felt as though I’d never known anyone else. When you walked beside me, I was complete, like two parts of a circle fit together.

Perhaps I am just a romantic fool. However, I can no longer carry regret in my heart for want of speaking these words. Nor will I shy away from sharing the truth of my feelings. But you are not here. Neither am I.

My steps have carried me to strange lands, and I will see stranger ones before I find my own place in the earth. Still, I hope my words will find you. Even if I cannot.

Now I stand on the shores of a foreign beach. It ignites inspiration in me like nothing I’ve known other than being with you. Sand dances on the wind as moonlit waves crash against my feet.

I reach my hands up to catch the light, just as I once held you. But you are part of the light now, and I am not. So I whisper the words of this letter into the wind.

I hope they will be carried up to you, wherever you are. Because, though I could take bits and pieces of this place to you, I could not bring the magic. For that, you must come to me.

Written by H. J. Buell

H. J. Buell is a world traveled author who writes across a broad range of topics. To learn more about his public writing, visit Amazon. For business inquiries, use the contact form on this site.