by Brandon Allen

Created on: July 25, 2009

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It happens once or twice in someone's life, maybe three or more times. It always feels close to the same. But it is not really. I cannot seem to get it all, or even get it right, and each time it happens, it's closer and closer to what it is, that keeps me going all night.

That feeling, spark... maybe magic, or fireworks.

It's so close I can taste it. But it's only an image within my own soul. An image so beautiful, it could have only been given to me from the heavens above.

I long for it.

I hurt for it.

I hunger for it.

I thrive with it.

I would die for it.

Is it the face of fear that threatens my existence? Or the face of death, that keeps me from it? I'm not afraid of dying, I'm only afraid of dying alone. No one by my side, no one near holding me tight as I take my last breathe.

I fear nothing.

I see all.

I hear it.

I feel.

A heart frozen in time, many years ago, all I feel is the warmth that it gives me, every time I dream about it.

Not a moment too soon, and the warmth thaws the ice that surrounds my source of life.

Angels singing hallelujah in the background.

I know my standing in this world. I know my place in the next.

No one's fear will tear me down.

I live for life, I live for love.

Is it out there? Nobody knows.

But all I can say is "once you got it, never let it go."

The sweet smell of cologne.

The sight of sweat across their forehead.

Those beautiful blue eyes.

As we dance cheek to cheek I can feel it through their skin.

It's the one thing that each of us use all of our senses, to know that it exists.

I know that it's real. I can feel it. I can see it. I hear the words that cross your lips and when I hear you speak so eloquently, those words don't enter my ears. They only enter my heart.

I want to share this world. I want to give my world to you.

I opened that door. You may have knocked to see if anyone was home. But I was the one that answered.

Do you see it?

Can you hear me?

Can you taste it?

Can you feel me?

I am here, standing in the rain. On another rainy summer night and all I have is the window, overlooking the garden, where I sit writing out my thoughts of you. Holding it tight within me, the memories I hold, and the love that could be, but the answers aren't quite there.

I am afraid to fall asleep, because I know that in my dreams, you will be there, and when I wake, well there is the difference, but all too familiar for me.

Back at the door, I stand alone. With you gazing into my eyes. I can feel your thoughts, both of us considering running the other direction, in fear.

But when we open ourselves, we become vulnerable. We become fragile. Like the flowers on the hillside, being shined upon by the hot giant star above. So beautiful, but they too wilt away. But will our love last longer?

I type, I take a moment to reflect. I hear the wind blowing through the leaves of the trees so peaceful. Yet so haste.

Even then the wind reminds me of you.

Each gust being slightly different, some lasting what seems to go on forever, and others like faded memories.

Love is like that?

I never knew so much.

I never believed so much.

Maybe I did. Maybe I will again.

But it won't be the same.

Only for better or for worse.

Confusion sets in.

But I am still here.

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