Glass of Time

You ask me to write you whatever comes to my mind and to send it to you. I will write down my thoughts but will not mail. You can read them like everyone else here on these pages. They have been locked inside me for too long, and the time has arrived for them to be unsealed. These are the letters that you had decided for us both to be delivered to a different dimension in eternity. The letters you never replied to, never kissed and kept, and never returned. They got lost with that girl I was, in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of cities without streets, streets without names. They were never opened by you, the man who lived in a house not within the reach of my words. Now twenty years later, and continents apart, you send me your picture, a very simple premise, and my chest melts in my clothes. Twenty years ago I hoped someday you would find your way back to me. I didn’t know it would be a day in September, the month I flew into my future without the man I loved so intensely, the man, who like a drop of water ran down the glass of time.