You don’t know me. Well, you do, but you don’t. I’m the one you barely notice in the sunlight, barely speak to in the rain. I’m the one you brush by on the sidewalk, the one you hardly see in your hurry to move along.
I’m the one who comments on your beauty, who makes whimsical remarks about your day. I’m the one who notices the soft lines around your eyes when you smile, and the way the sun reflects off the softness there. I see the tempered curves of your lips and the beauty of your lines before I even see the beauty that surrounds you.
I’m the man who loves your comments, who sees the wisdom of your words and the comedy of your ways. I listen to what you offer about your day without any effort, and know what parts of you need my attention before you’ve ever uttered the request.
I’m the person who would become an oak if you’d only lean in his direction. I’m the man who would become a crystal clear stream if only you’d bend your thirsty lips his way. The world would hear me roar and feel my bite if only you needed my protection.
I’m him. I’m the one you’ve been hoping for. I’m the one who answers your prayers in the night, who holds your hand in your moments of need. I’m the one whose embrace reminds you of some great sanctuary, of whose words take you to treasured places where no darkness can reside.
I’m the one who calls your name when the silence becomes too great for me to bear. I’m the one who’d never let you walk alone, even if that meant walking far behind you. I’m the one whose waited his entire life just to hear you say his name.
If only you knew me. If only you would know. If only I could tell you.
No greater pain hath man wrought on himself as the one of unrequited love. It’s there, upon the iron throne where the armor of fantasy and the sword of reality mesh, where flesh is pierced and prayers are answered. It is there I become the Master of myself, and it is there that I wait heaven’s great promise, either in this lifetime or the next.
I write, with an open heart and peaceful mind, waiting.