I watched her, the way the moon watches the sea. Sunflowers follow the sun, and though it was winter, I wanted to be young with a summer’s heart, to be young with summer for her. In a world full of magic, in a castle full of history, I looked for her.
The first time our eyes met, across that large lawn in a sea of people, I became, so suddenly, a stranger to myself. This wanting has always been bigger than I. Or perhaps I was only half a person until I met her. How did she look that day? Did she register my presence in her passing glance? The memory is blurry, made blurrier still with every look she gives my way. I have looked at her once. I have looked at her a thousand times.
Stolen glances between the gaps of bookshelves. The silence of it all, somehow precious. What did she see?
Is there something you want to say to me?
I had many things I wanted to share with her, nothing and everything, but I could not find the words, not when she had become my entire language.
I look into the mirror and I see her. I like her, the way the tides reflect the moon. I carry this sunflower and hope it turns into the sun.