Unrequited

There she was, off in the distance, surely a mirage of a woman if there ever were one. Hpw could one could be that stunning, beautiful, talented, edgy, and mysterious? Her hair was red. Her body was taut. Her stature was elegant. And her mind, fiercely intelligent.

He dreamt of her once – God, how he wished it were a premonition. She sat playfully on his lap with her back to his chest when he was suddenly roused from sleep. She evaporated as he suspected she would. There would be no way she was real. Like a ghost, she would be ephemeral and elusive to hold.

Sadly, (for him) her heart belonged to another and he was resigned to his fate. He would never know her in the way he wanted. As much as it dismayed him, he arrived too late. She already had a family of her own.

In the distant past, she confided in him that she liked learning about him. That she respected him. Yet, that made things harder. You could imagine the self-restraint it took him to not act on his impulses. He had to remind himself of how inappropriate it would be to even breach the subject. So, he didn’t....directly.

He expressed his feelings about her through his art: His piano, his poetry, his song, and the written word. She had unwittingly become his muse and he, her secret suitor. Unrequited.