Thoughts of my beloved

Painting by Leonid Afremov

I sit in my front verandah and watch the sun go down in the western sky. It’s winter. The cool breeze comes by and hits me, stinging my skin in the manner as my beloved’s touch singes my soul. Oh, his thoughts hit me. Hits me hard. For his thoughts hurt me now as my heart longs for him and his gentle touch. I haven’t seen him awhile. I haven’t seen him for weeks on end. His work takes him away from me.

This evening I wanted to be happy. Happy with my lover’s thoughts. But I feel pain instead. I feel pain for there is no one to make me feel free, feel loved and secure . No one to let me fly out into the secret world that I inhabit.One that only he is aware of . One that he happily swims in with me .

I recall with fondness the many times he had instilled confidence in me about our relationship, when perhaps even a optimistic person like me staggered. I long to be in his arms this evening .I want his strong arms around me, holding me closely to his bosom as he had done so many times when he was with me. I was like a child then looking for assurance into his eyes, begging for the warmth he emanated. There was no shame in it but a sense of belonging . A sense of oneness .

My phone rings and my heart leaps up. It’s my beloved’s call. I get up and go inside to take his call.

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