Will I ever find you again?
They met among books.
It was in a library. But no ordinary library. It was a library bustling with activity, thriving with knowledge and pulsating with joy. A library in which everyone was welcome and in which you were allowed to be who you wanted to be, instead, perhaps, of who you are. A library which he had been visiting, frequently, for years. And then she walked in.
It wasn't love at first sight. Her presence went by unnoticed, and so did his. They went here and there, talked to him and her, did this and that. And then they met.
They talked. And talked. And talked. About lives, about pasts and futures, but mostly about dreams, which, eventually, revolved around eachother. Dreams of crooked houses, of hidden lakes, of being together and of unbridled passion.
But the dreams proved to be just that: dreams. And their lives, their real lives, as they are want to do, interrupted. Their lives interrupted their dreams to the point that they had to part ways. She left to live her life, and he left to live his. They lost touch.
The library still remains, the same but different. New people moving in and out, filling the place with wisdom and laughter, sometimes simultaneously. But their love, their short but passionate fling, has become less than a memory between the walls of this extraordinary library. The only place where their love still thrives is in his mind, and perhaps hers, too.
And all he thinks is - Will I ever find her again.
It was in a library. But no ordinary library. It was a library bustling with activity, thriving with knowledge and pulsating with joy. A library in which everyone was welcome and in which you were allowed to be who you wanted to be, instead, perhaps, of who you are. A library which he had been visiting, frequently, for years. And then she walked in.
It wasn't love at first sight. Her presence went by unnoticed, and so did his. They went here and there, talked to him and her, did this and that. And then they met.
They talked. And talked. And talked. About lives, about pasts and futures, but mostly about dreams, which, eventually, revolved around eachother. Dreams of crooked houses, of hidden lakes, of being together and of unbridled passion.
But the dreams proved to be just that: dreams. And their lives, their real lives, as they are want to do, interrupted. Their lives interrupted their dreams to the point that they had to part ways. She left to live her life, and he left to live his. They lost touch.
The library still remains, the same but different. New people moving in and out, filling the place with wisdom and laughter, sometimes simultaneously. But their love, their short but passionate fling, has become less than a memory between the walls of this extraordinary library. The only place where their love still thrives is in his mind, and perhaps hers, too.
And all he thinks is - Will I ever find her again.
3 Comments:
Did you meet somebody at the library recently?
Ha. It's been ages since I've been to any kind of library, my friend.
Just a piece of mediocre fiction I had to get off my chest. I mainly wanted to get rid of the 9/11 post.
what if this actually happened to you (different location) any real chance of finding them again
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