Dear Lover,
Loving you was like jumping into the dark side of a pool: all deep thoughts and displaced stomachs and a curious feeling of falling and flying, a distant splash, submersion, the loss of reality, floating, eyes blinking open, everything blurred, ethereal, light glowing, streaks of sun light, legs thrashing, weightless feeling, heavenly, feeling somehow not alive, but much more than dead, an unyielding peace, and finally, I have wings and I am an angel flying gently, soaring, warm, warm, lightheaded, deaf to everything but the sweet timbre of your voice.
And I feel unprepared for such peacefulness but I realize I have been preparing all my life to make a blind jump in untrusting faith, for your cloud of heaven to float my way. And there is fear of re-acclimation to gravity, fears of surfacing, of losing you, and never knowing how it feels to be loved by you. And I try to hold onto this moment, smiling, blinking back tears, stroking your hair, as reality creeps in and I wonder how, how, can I feel so weightless, floating, falling and flying all at once, overwhelming joy at finally knowing what it really feels like to be in heaven.
Loving you was against physics, a disaster, unpredicted. But I wanted to love you again and again. Loving you was like jumping into the dark side of a pool, and drowning.