~ Adore (Single)

was an absence in my heart, a void that I couldn't learn how to ignore. Rather than the light that used to live there, a new hardened darkness had slowly taken place over the month. It filled my life with a dull ache, pushing me to easy irritability and segregation. I thought of Harold every single second of my days; and during my nights, I dreamt of him. He was so precious to me, so important. I always questioned the speed at which our relationship had advanced. It all happened so quickly, quicker than I'd deemed possible for love to dig its roots in deep. But now I knew why. All this time, all those years, we'd always known each other. Our souls were fighting to take control, to lead us to each other. That night, be it a human error or fate, had unhinged our lives, but because we didn't know of it, our lives had continued without turbulence.

I walked up the stairs to my apartment in slow strides that mirrored my true age. With my mail in one hand, I unlocked the front door and stepped inside. The scent of vanilla hit me first, the cool air coming in second. I threw my keys carelessly on the coffee table and took a seat on the couch facing the TV. I quickly went through the mail, sifting out the ads from the actual mail. There wasn't anything that was an actual mail, the ads overtaking the majority of the pile. As I was finishing up, an envelope with a distinctive handwriting that I'd recognize from anywhere caught my attention.

Bug eyed, I froze for a brief moment. However, I recovered just as fast, resuming to reality. I tore the envelope open, taking out the piece of paper that had also been handwritten.

My heart tripled in its pace, fear and excitement intertwining into one as they tore through my veins.

I closed my eyes, mentally preparing myself for what I was about to read, before glancing down at the paper in hand.

Dear Adele,

I dreamt of you last night, of you and me, actually. I saw it. I saw us back then, back in 1924. It was such a weird feeling, seeing us interact in a way that I didn't have memories of. I wanted to remember. I wanted to remember if you felt as good to touch back then as you do now. I'd missed your smile so much so that when I saw you laughing as you entered the room, my eyes welled with foreign tears. You were so beautiful yet to have faced the world. For a moment, I stood there admiring your essence, your beauty, until it hit me hard; I knew you. We met hundreds of years ago. It was such a revelation that I almost blanked out. I realized as I watched the whole scene take place right before my very own eyes that we'd separated for a good reason. That day after you left, a hole had engraved itself in my heart, rendering me unable to feel anything but the pain of losing you. It hurt to move, to even think, but that was all I could do. Images of you, conversations we had, your voice, your laugh, it all jammed my thoughts and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The bigger issue was that I didn't want to stop those thoughts. I wanted them to continue trickling in. I wanted to see you, to feel you, to touch you, to listen to you, to talk to you, even if I had to do it my dreams and thoughts. I missed you so much, much more than I can put into words.

I write you this letter because my thoughts get convoluted when you look at me with those eyes of yours. I wanted to thoroughly let you know of my feelings, of where I stand. I understand you now. I know how much more love had split into my heart once I awoke from that dream. In that immediate moment, I wanted you in my arms. I wanted to tell you how much I loved you, how much you meant to me. There was a part of you that fit perfectly with a part of me and there was no question about it. They were designed to fit, which was why there was such a strong pull between us from the start. We caught eyes across a large ballroom and instantly fell into lust. It would've developed into more, I'm sure of it, had we not been met with fate. But I also am sure that it all happened for a reason, a good one at that, too. We grew, we learned and we developed into more.

I love you because of this. You have this illuminance about you that radiates a purity that had been soiled with the hands of life. I think that's what drew me to you in that elevator. There was a grace about you that I adored and now, that I loved. I love you. I love you. I love telling you how much I love you, because it means so much to me that the girl who finally opened my heart to its fullest extent had been the one my heart was waiting for.

I want you to read this letter and really think about our last conversation. I want you. With all that's in me, I want to be with you until the moment I take my last breath. However, it takes two to tango and I will not force you into something you do not wish to be a part of.

I can only wish to have you back into my arms sooner, so that I can have the chance to love you longer. If in the deepest parts of your heart you feel the same, I want you to meet me at Ethereal at 7 o'clock tomorrow.

My heart will always be yours, my love, regardless of the path you choose.

Yours always and forever

Harold

My mind had frozen off towards the end of Harold's letter, utter shock overtaking my body as I read and reread the letter over and over again. It was so beautiful, so well-indulged and so questioning. It asked things of me I hadn't wanted to force myself into. But in the end, I knew I had to make a choice. For the sake of Harold, for the sake me myself, I had to do it now, before much else can get involved.

The problem was there was no questioning siren going off in my head. Rather it was the siren of cautiousness that rang, unconsciously pulling me back a step further.

I didn't know how to stop.