One thing I ask

I know we spoke only a little while ago, but I haven't said all I wanted to. I never do, when we talk. I am writing because it is very important to me that you understand. Please keep your promise.

Promise me, I said. I knew my voice was breaking, I'd cry in a moment. And what if I don't, you asked. I heard the laugh in the voice, and could picture the smile. You will promise and keep the promise, but you can't stop teasing, can you?

It is not much I am asking for, am I? A few minutes of togetherness, just you and me; I am not demanding more, after all. Even this demand springs from our history, you know that.

We have years of history, after all. The years you toiled and I fretted about you, the days we spent worrying about each other, the few glorious times when we were together; they all shape this plea.

My shame and yours; my tragedies, yours; we couldn't stop talking those days, remember? You healed me; I like to think I healed you, too. You made me feel cherished and special. We only knew each other online, but we knew each other.

But of course, life intervenes. We are not meant to be together. Neither of us minds it, really, because what we have is different, special and precious.

I remember my first glimpse of you. I knew it was you, you sent me pictures. You were scanning the street and looked so young and vulnerable and adorable. Our eyes met because I stared pointedly at you, then I gestured, come into my parlour. I admired you walking, crossing the street and fell in love when you held open a door a doorman already did.

Just once, you know? I want us to be together. So I can rest my cheek on your shoulder. So I can feel your arms wrapping me in a hug. So I can feel your breath fan my face and I can reach up and pat your cheek or plant a kiss on that incredibly beautiful mouth. So I can cry and have safe haven of your embrace to do so.

Our lives are parallel lines, but let's meet at the seeming horizon once. I need you now.