Midsummer Rain

I was born the day we met.

The winding roads, leaving town into the forest beyond; I took the deepest path to be completely alone with my thoughts.

It was in my nature to run, and I think you knew that from the moment we met. You wouldn't let me be alone from that moment on.

You appeared from the shadows cast from the sun; at first, I wasn't sure if you were real. But when you smiled, I saw the boy incased in your shell of a young man. You spoke in hushed whispers, "I finally found you; you're very hard to track down."

I had never felt more wanted. When you outstretched your hand to me, I let my instincts guide me. You bathed me in pure sunlight, and led me through sensations I believed were thought dead. And that's why I think you were searching for me; restlessly trying to prove a point each time our lifetimes' crossed paths.

You took me through mountains; past plains, along lakeshores, all places you've sworn in remembrance, but admitting that each time was your first visit. "That's how I feel when I'm with you, like I knew we've met somewhere before." And you'd always smile, and hold me close to you. I felt safest there.

I let you into my heart, deeper than anyone I've allowed. I knew, we both knew, I belonged in yours, and you belonged in mine. Your embrace told me you'd protect me; your hands showed me how to touch; your feet guided me to places I had only read about in books.

"If this could change, would you let it?" Your insecurity both shocked, and worried me. I had never felt such love; to have it ripped away by choice would be something I couldn't bear. It made me doubt; could this just be a fantasy struck to life from my mind?

You led me back to the place we met: shrouded in trees, the shadows beckoning to return. "This is our destiny." I had never seen your smile filled with such sorrow, "Just out of reach."

I didn't want to understand any of it; to only have each other for such little time. The Summer Sun had finally set, and the final traces of you lingered until each shadow lost their individuality through the darkness of nightfall.

I followed the path I knew by heart: past the willow, out of the hearth, back to the winding roads leading to home. When my family asks of you, what should I say? There's nothing written or spoken to make them understand who we are.

I died the day we parted.
I refuse to open my heart so willingly again.