My precious husband,
As I thought back to the way we were remembering our meeting this morning, I could not help but think of the very first note that you ever wrote to me. I remember reading it and literally feeling like my heart would stop! They were the most beautiful words anyone had ever “said” to me….and I can remember thinking to myself “Surely I must be dreaming!” But I was not and those words that you wrote 6 months ago are as true to day as they were then…in fact…they seem to mean even MORE now….we have gone thru SO much in the last 6 months. We have survived things that might have broken others up….and they have only served to make us stronger. They have confirmed EVERYTHING that you wrote then and have even added new meaning to it. Our love has grown stronger and bigger. It consumes me, mein Koenig! The memories are precious to me and when we are together and YOU bring them out and start talking about them, I swoon inside. To know, that they are as precious to you…that they live on inside you just as they do me….oh love, do you KNOW how many others NEVER share such things. I am SO grateful for who we are….and who we have always been. We are different from most….and I cherish that. Whatever this current future holds…may we NEVER forget our past.
ARCHITECTURE CHAPTER ONE by V 08-27-09
Fire cracked, lighting his face as he intently stared into the flames. Images played there, shades, shapes and forms. It was a dream fire, in a dream room, on a dream ship on dream shores. It was an aspect of himself and he, in turn, was an aspect of the place. It was always like this. Whatever he experienced in the Dreaming was part of himself. Until now.
He felt the shores around him become transparent. He felt them change, shift, slightly, because he changed. He knew that soon they will be different. They have been ruins for a while now, but he didn’t feel ruins anymore. He felt peace, happiness, and love. True love. There were things that were precious to him, things that weren’t spoiled by memories. The treehouse, the ship, the submerged bridge, the Mahjongg table. They all were his own.
He knew how she must feel surrounded with what seems like a long history. He also knew he wouldn’t be able to explain it to her. But there was no history. He had burned history, and unlike Orpheus in Hades he did not look back. Whatever there was now, was new. It felt old, because it WAS old, within himself. But it was pure, and fresh.
He dreamt of her. He had SUCH dreams. He dreamt of her when she was alone, waiting, craving, missing him. He felt her so clearly and visibly inside himself, he could feel her heartbeat. And in his dreams he mourned the times they could not be together. In his dreams he worried that it might be too hard for her to bear. And in his dreams he missed her. Missed her terribly.
He was unable to express the pure wonder that had befallen him since they fell for each other. The singular amazement at how wonderful she really was. He found himself dancing on the bridge for pure joy, something he had not done before. Something he thought was impossible for him to do. He still could not express it. For the first time ever he was lost for words. He wished he could tell her what she really meant to him, he wished there were words for what he felt. But there were none.
He had to think of a poem of the young dead Frenchman: “O in the wide snow, a being beauteous of high stature… O picture without fail, at whose feet I, worm, must fall adoringly through the whirring snarl of trees and light air!” Through the white haze of dreams he saw her smiling. Saw their passion, their love, saw them claw at each other with fiery wings, flaming hair and blazing eyes.
He loved everything about her. He loved her devotion, her joy, her wit, her imagination, her submission, the way she spoke, her touch, her caress, her pure wonderful body which he could only touch reverently, still unable to believe that it was his. All his. He blinked at the thought. It was so unbelievable he was afraid he could shatter the dream with touching it. At the same time he felt deep inside him, that it was true. That it has always been true. And that now they were complete.
He felt the fire warm on his face. For the first time, he could not see the future in it. He could not see what the shores might be like, what he might be like. Because it was not his future alone anymore. Because they were.
He found the sleep. He found the dream that was alive.
