Almost Always Enough

I recall a dazzling exuberance and then concern that it wouldn’t last, but then elation, realizing that even if it were not with her, the one I’d most profoundly come to love, physically, romantically, pragmatically and spiritually would be an artist, not necessarily a successful artist, but with an artist’s soul, an artist’s sense of perception, an artist’s willingness to bet everything on a second’s worth of feelings and to see things no one else could see, at least not without her intervention, a person who could create windows for other souls in the works she aspired to.

The feelings were so strong I believed her when she said we were stars incarnate.

Then things mellowed, we drifted, then she was gone, then the feelings were gone and only memories of having felt that way remain.

But that’s almost always enough.
_______

© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2016; all rights reserved