ENDLESS LOVE

THIS IS A STORY OF A MAN STILL IN LOVE WITH AN OLD FLAME, THIS IS DAVID'S STORY. 

   I feel like a shipwrecked man spotting the signs of some nearing but still invisible shore.

    I've come to the end, finally. Not of love But of my power to say another word. I have no more need. My life is taking shape 

I'm living with a women now, I'll never love her as much as I loved you, but she fills a void, she fills the void that should be you. You with me. Maybe one day we will marry, though I doubt it and she pressures me for this but the only person I ever wanted that deep of commitment with was you. She paints like you do. She teaches at the University and is very tall, taller than me. When I hold her in my arms, I think of you,  I miss your tiny body how you use to fit so easily into my arms. I miss everything about you. I can't ever let her know how I compare her to you. 

  I won't bother telling you where I'm living. It makes perfect sense for you not to know.

   I don't want to say it, I TRUELY don't, but if I've gone this far I suppose it's obvious that what was ignited when I loved you continues to burn. She knows this, this women I'm living with, but she accepts this. She knows the power you have over me. She knows of your beauty, your charm, she knows the minute you enter a room, any room you instantly  steal everyone's heart.  She's become resolved with what I loved about you. But all of this is small importance to you anymore and that's how it should be.

   Everything's in place. The past rests, breathing faintly in the darkness. I still love you, I always will but it no longer holds me as it use to; now I must reach back to touch it. 

  It is night and I'm alone and there is still time, a moment more. 

  I am standing on a long black stage. With a spotlight on me, which is my love for you, enduring. 

  I have escaped or been expelled from eternity and am back in time. 

   But I step out once more to sing this aria 

This confession, this testament without end. My arms open wide, not to embrace you but to embrace the world, the mystery we are caught in. There is no orchestra, no audience, it is an empty theater in the middle of the night and all the clocks in the world are ticking. And now for this last time, I don't mind, or even ask if its madness: I see your face, I see you, you; 

I see you in every seat...........