I was fortunate enough to have had one true love, someone who made the hair stand up on the back of my neck whenever they were near, the one whose kisses left a taste on my lips I prayed would never go away.
I was attracted to her like no other, although there were times in later life when I tried to find a love as true but never did and had to settle for second best. I know that's not fair, but I won't lie and say I didn't compare her to every woman I dated, lived with, and, in Two cases, married. None of them could ever take her place.
I loved her for a short time before she went to be with the angels, leaving me broken with an emptiness I still feel today decades later.
Her picture hangs on the wall in my study, a bit yellowed now, but her smile still shines through, and her perfect lips are worn away from my kisses, hoping to taste hers again.
I've come to accept the world's loss of such a beautiful person, but I can't accept why she had to go so young. Did she know I'd never be the same without her, and all I had were just memories to keep me from going insane?
It's been forty-some years that I've mourned her, and if I live to be one hundred, I'll mourn her even more.
Is there a bright side to this sorrow I've lived with? I believe there is. One day, I'll be called home and see her standing there, smiling at me with cherry-red lips, waiting to kiss mine. She said she'd been waiting for me for just a few moments, as heaven knows no time. And as she reached for my hand, my youth returned, and we were two teenagers in the deepest of love, walking together in eternity like we should have been doing on earth a very long time ago.
Mike 2024
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