Extract from

The Forgotten Home

 

Today, my soul ached.  I felt the pain from within, deeply seated, throbbing, as a pounding headache, but this within my being…within my breath…within my very existence.  To look upon your face, your figure, gave me such pleasure.  Seeing the swing of your body, the texture of your skin, the flow of your hair…this was true pleasure.  The sadness is what hurts, the emptiness is what is endless, the echo of an empty hand is deafening.  Of what might never be ... of what should be.  Maybe to me…am I the only one to see this...to feel this?  But I feel it as surely as anything that I have known on this good earth…that you know this truth also…that you at least suspect it…that there is something deeper than a mere attraction…farther than lust…a true coupling of souls…a peaceful existence within the fabric of our lives.  A bend and flow that we could never interrupt no matter how hard one could try.  The reality embodied by a holding of hands that we would never forget.  That every time you lay your head upon my chest, we could both recall it.  Your sighs would be my breath…your tears my drink…your laugh would be my joy…your love my only sustenance…and I would drink deeply of it and you would gladly offer more, knowing that I have the same to give and you could live as I do...that we could live as we do.  Peacefully, with love to give, to ourselves, and everyone about us, everyone that we care about, and those we do not know of yet.  Why should my soul not ache?  I go home without this…tonight.  Every night, I fall asleep with you on my mind.  Every morning I wake hoping that my dreams have come true.  With tears in my soul, I embrace my reality, and look to the ground, as if for an answer.  I stare at the sky, wishful that the moving clouds might reveal something useful.  There is nothing.  There never will be and my anguish is unmatched, except by my love.  My desire fills my emptiness…the longing fired by your nearness.  Today I thought I would die with the happiness...for you were close.  I was happy to be near you.  I was simply lost when you were gone.  Why should my soul not ache?  I go to a home without you.  Understand...anywhere that you are not, could never be home.

 

Note that this is an extract from a short story written sometime in the late 90's, called the Forgotten Home.

 

Richard F. Sayage

1990 something?