Crossing the Fire
We must allow ourselves to flow. Perhaps in another life, we accomplished all our dreams. Maybe you still catch yourself thinking about us, and we will continue to beat together, whether in my memory or yours. And even though it's possible that we will always exist, we must let go. Let me go, and I will let you go. Set me free, and I'll set you free because you deserve to start anew. Don't forget me; don't pretend this never happened. Just allow me to go, and I'll do the same for you, for us, for the purity of that magic that emanated from our gazes. We are ready, I can feel it, because now your call on my birthday no longer weighs on me, the calm of a peaceful day no longer bothers me. I even smile when I see how happy we used to be. We won't grow old together, but we will undoubtedly grow old.
I no longer want to suppress this love that I still feel. I want it to flow again like rivers seeking the ocean, to flood my being with the smile that emerges when I see someone who is surely waiting while healing their own wounds. When I tell her my story, and she tells me hers, we will learn to laugh and appreciate the joy of a new dawn. This love I still feel expands, fills me, and wants to encompass everything, to smile again and dance in the rain until I'm drenched because there is no sorrow that can withstand eternity, and my moment has come, our moment has come. It has been a pleasure to hold onto your memories, but I must let you go.
Gradually, I have convinced myself that I had been saving things to feel again, to relive the poems that sent shivers down my spine, the kisses that lasted until dawn, and the conversations I've replayed in my mind, thinking that you would love to hear them. I smiled less to conserve my smile, and my desire to find you is so strong that I have started searching for you. I know you're searching too, saying goodbye to your own sadness as you wait to find me. I will stop believing that if we love each other, it's because someone didn't love us back. Instead, I'll start believing that we had to cross the fire to appreciate the joy of loving again.