It was a few strokes past midnight on Christmas Day. He ended their conversation with, “Thank you.” “She is probably asleep,” he thought to himself. He knew even if she wasn’t she wouldn’t have asked why. She was smart and learned to ignore his “complicated” moments and words. It was probably best she had already told him he doesn’t have a chance. Not in those exact words but with a look once. Even if you have never seen that look you would know it when you saw it. Its a look of pity and love. His heart doesn’t listen. It still goes on loving, wanting, and hoping. It’s really not a bad life, he had now become accustom to his broken heart. They say the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t know, and he definitely knew this demon. The thing he couldn’t figure out was why he couldn’t walk away. He did understand that he could only love her in one way, and when he looked at her his heart will always melt. He knew from the moment he met her he would always be in love with her. Not being a child he knew when someone tells you they don’t feel the same you should move on, but he couldn’t. As hard as he tried he couldn’t. To add insult to injury she was also his best friend, they had a connection, an understanding beyond anything he had ever felt. Getting back to his “Thank you.” In his mind the thank you was for all the obvious reasons. For being the most beautiful example of a woman he had ever known. For being the perfect image of love in this broken world, but most of all he was saying thank you for one of his favorite moment. The day before at work she tied up her hair with a pen, not in any exact fashion, but it always left him without words. His favorite part were the few loose stands of hair that fell randomly framing her beautful face. Looking at her during these moments he understood why men fight wars, build mooments, create priceless works of art, climb moountains, and otherwise push the limits of their humainity in an attempt to be worthy of such women. Looking that her dark silky hair tied up exposing the delicate knape of her neck he fantasized what it must be like to kiss that skin, and memorize those curves by touch. With his eyes secretly he traced her those delicate contours again and again, down the the base of her neck and up to that cute chin, the dimple on her left cheek, those lucious full lips, the beautiful mole on that little button nose, and then up to the center of his universe, her eyes. Her eyes were what made his universe move. He was an expert in these momemnts, he knew if he watched her carefully there were these rare random moments when he could steal a deep stare into those eyes when she was unaware. You can get lost in that ocean of love, pain, joy, fear, and wonder, and he never missed a chance to dive into that ocean that she called a soul. This is why he loved her, she made moments like this happen when she was at her desk opening her mail. He had known for years and this passion and desire has only grown deeper. This is why he never considered walking away, he knew this love was part of him. Bsides, who called walk away from a miracle like this. Sure his heart had been broken a thousand times and was sure to only have years of heart ache ahead, but she was worth it. Today was a day he spent with family, and he looked forward to it. His heart now considered her family too, so it left him sad that he would not see her today. His only comfort was knowing that although separated for the moment by time, space and personal circumstance he could still feel his heart beat inside of his. This was something either of them could deny. As he decided to get up for the day and get ready for the world he sent her thoughts of love and happiness.

It’s Christmas eve and my thoughts can’t stay away from you. I know I am far from your thoughts, but it doesn’t matter tonight. Tonight I am tired of pretending this heart was not made to love you. I am tired of pretending I am not who I know I am. I am tired of hearing my deepest thoughts are misgiven. Just once, if only for a moment, if only for one beat of your heart, let these words find a home deep in your heart. Tomorrow I will go on with this charade and pretend I am just a fool. You don’t have to say anything, let your silence be your gift for me today. Just let me exist as I was born. I may not know what is like to kiss those lips, but I have memorized every piece of that broken heart. I love each piece for the miracle. I love your broken heart, and all it’s countless pieces. Maybe it’s possible my heart could match your in love, and happiness. Maybe my heart could heal the pain that haunts your dreams. What if there are secrets I keep that would make you understand your destiny. What if you are wrong about me? In you will always have a perfect love that understands, love and protects. You are and always will be the end that I have always known. Give me a chance to make everyone of your dreams come true.

Loving someone from a distance is an agonizing challenge, but he had to keep his distancce. He knew trying to touch the stars is a tragic hope that is almost impossible to fulfill. Still she was beautful, and he knew this type of beauty was a rare gift for his eyes. Her physical beauty, was only half of it, watching her think, watch her feel, was like watch heaven being born, pure magic. She was unaware of the miracle she had grown to be to those around her. She was so unaware of her magic, I can only compare her blindness to a fallen angel who lost her way home. He found her humility charming. Each moment with her was amazing, he tried to memorize every detail. He would stare at her when she wasn’t looking in the hope that her image would burn into his eyes permanently.

They worked for the same company so he was lucky to see her almost on a daily basis. She would joke, “How could you miss me, you see me almost everyday?” He would think to himself, “I will never get tired of looking at that face.” Today he was lucky enough to get a lunch date with her. He knew with someone like her an invite always had a 50/50 change at best. So today was his lucky day, she said yes. Many men at his company had pursued her, and rightfully so, she was special. Even the men with half a brain could see this, and because of this having lunch with her always made him feel like he had won a prize that day. They went to their usual spot, she was very particular in her restaurants, but he never complained because that discerning palate of hers never let him down. She was a little thing, with a tiny frame but she did enjoy her food. This was among his top ten favorites things about her, and yes sadly he had a list he kept in his head. For example number 7 was the way she used his full name, Joseph. Although he never knew whether to be terrified or exhilirated when that word left her lips. She ate with passion, but not in a gluttonous way. She ate in a way that showed she was not afraid to enjoy the simple things in life. Luckily for him she also liked to share her passion for food. She had many facets to her existence like this, and each one made you want to love her as much as your heart could bear. As they sat down she quickly ordered her usual spicy salmon salad. He loved to watch her eat, somehow it made her beauty more accessible to him, somehow it made her seem almost real enough to touch. He would always play with her saying, “watching you eat is like food porn for me.” He did love watching her eat, but he really just liked to watch her exist. Watching her comb her hair, cook an egg, or even tie her shoe was a treat for him, but that’s love for you. It has a way of reminding you that the small moves of the universe are the ones we remember and cherish. Their order only took 10 minutues as they were the only one in the small restaurant. As she quickly devoured her salad he sat and admired her appetite almost forgetting his own meal. He just sat scretly admiring her and thought,”God she’s amazing.”

Sitting in silence driving home from work he thought, “why does she waste her time with something she knows will not last, does she know, or does she lie to herself?” He knew she is smarter than that so he was struggling to see what he was missing. Earlier that day she had confided something her new boyfriend had shared. He shared a comment his female friend made when seeing a photo of her. It really wasn’t a comment, more of a dispersion about her looks, and I’m sure this guy made a veiled attempt at defending her, but it was still upsetting. This upset him not because of this woman’s insulting comments, but because he knowingly exposed her to ridicule and then shared it in a childish attempt to make himself look good. This so-called friend of his really wasn’t a friend, even though he claimed she was his best friend, she was in fact an ex-girlfriend he kept around for convinent sex. He had been sleeping with her on a regular basis even after they broke up. She was obviously still in love with him. As she shared what happened and what this guys shared his world turned to red. It might have been a minor event in her eyes, and I’m sure this guy probably tried to repair the damage by telling her of the beauty he sees when he looks at her, the fact remains this was a situation he foolishly created. “Did he do it just to make himself look good, why is he playing games,” he wondered? If he wasn’t playing games he was far to old to be this dumb. Even if he apologized, these actions add to his list that make him questionable at best. What game was he trying to play with her heart. It was upsetting because when you really break it down and ananlyze this objectively it was an action of a child, a pointless game this man-boy was playing. He thought, “Someone like this does not deserve her.” He tried to control his anger because he knew its not his place to protect her, and usually this instinct ends up pushing her away. He ended up having dinner with his friend that night to keep himself from stewing in his own anger, and eventually his anger subsided. As his vision cleared his anger turned to sadness. Sadness because this was her choice and knew he could do nothing to protect her. He was sad because he knew it wasn’t his place, but mostly he was sad because he knows all she wants is to be loved. This guy is not capable apprieciating a heart like hers. He may understand her on some levels, and he obviously made a connection with her but he is an imposter at best and his immature selfish actions expose his flaws. He already knew from previous conversations that he will never will be worthy of the gift she gives him, but this just validated his instincts. Admittidly, he feels what he feels for her but his love is always strong enough to see the truth. Unfortunately she doesn’t see it yet, but this guy is not what he seems and will fall short. Again he just has to sit in silence and let the world hurt her again. “I can’t care more than her,” he tells himself constantly.

It had rained all day and the cold air was fresh and new, a rare treat for southern california. He was on his way to work but the chill in the air triggered thoughts of his younger years when his father was still alive. His father was a truck driver and occasionally his mother would take him to work. It never made sense to him that his mother would drive all that way when his father had his own car, but being older now he realized his father worked long hours, sometimes 7 days a week to pay for his private school, and this was their only way of spending time together. Since he was on summer break he would wake up early to tag along with his parents. Usually there was time to stop at a donut shop a few miles from his work, and thay would spend a minutes drinking their coffee talking. Funny thing is now he couldn’t tell you in detail any of their conversations, but looking back these early morning drives to his fathers work were some of his best childhood memories. It wasn’t just the donut and chocolate milk that was his motivation, he didn’t realize it at the time but this was also his way of stealing time back time with his father. Most days his father would leave before he woke up, before the sun even rose, and he would be lucky if his father returned in time for dinner. His father drove an old rusty beat up 1957 chevy truck, its rough idling and rusty squeaks gave it a very distinct sound. The sound would always announce his fathers return from work. It must have been a company truck because there were to white blotches of paint on each door, appearently where someone painted painted over the company name. Not sure why they used white since the truck was dark green but this lazy effort resulted in what really looked to white clouds. To his childhood eyes they did look like clouds, and he never really questioned why they were there, he just accepted them as clouds.

Over the course of a few short year the two had become best friends. The two had shared thoughts and emotions they never share with the rest of the world. It was undeniable their souls were connected by their truths, their fears, and an undefinable love the shadowed their own significance. Through countless late night conversations they learned they are not alone. When their thoughts intertwined he felt the magic. Instantly they both recognized each other’s perfect imperfections. Selfless and pure it was definitely true love, and because of this impossible truth he could never feel anger or regret knowing her name. Looking back he could find no fault in her love. Looking back he could never feel anything except grateful for that warm summer night they met, the night he first spoke her name, it was only two syllables but as soon as that beautiful word left his lips his existence suddenly had meaning. Despite all the profound moments, despite all the intimate understandings, a part of his heart knew his desires were hopeless, and he knew could not blame anyone for the mess his heart had become. He had no reason to believe he could fight the stars, no one ever said he had chance, but this love he felt when he looked at her knew no fear. From the beginning she said it wasn’t there, and he had no reason to doubt. In fact he always knew he was running towards the fire and his desires were impossible at best. He couldn’t tell you if it was bravery or foolishness to try to love a heart like hers. Maybe it was that foolish heart that convinced him, maybe it was his blind love that said he might actually be good enough to be the reason her heart beat. Despite all the pain when he looks back he still feels no regret, honestly the only thing that ever scared him more than being so far away from heaven is being close, being able to feel her heart beat next to his was a terrifying thought. He knew this blindness offered its own salvation, he knew if he held her the way he wanted, even just once, he could never turn back. If he was able to know the beauty of waking up with her in his arms he would be crushed into oblivion. If you never know what pure happiness feels like how could you ever truly miss it. To him it was all a dream, and all though this dream was pure agony, it was far less than that fall from heaven would be if he ever lost her. He knew he would never know what is like for her to hurt for him. He couldn’t barely imagine what it feels like for her to need him. His name will never make her dream, not the way hers does for him. Still he wish he knew why his heart needs to love her, he wish he knew why he had to understand her pain. During the long nights all he could think was, “Why did the universe give him this useless heart?” He didn’t look for this, it found him. Why was this love instant? Nothing was easier or ever felt more true that this love. He wondered why she needed him to admit it was lie. “Was it a lie?”, he thought. “Do my eyes lie?”, he would wonder. He tried to stop it, he tried a thousand times, but nothing felt more unnatural than not loving her the only way he knew how. He tried to let her go, but it was exhausting to pretend he was not who he was. An invisible force he never understood always pulled him back. Without any effort without any thought he would float back to her. She never lied, her actions, her words never gave him false hope. She wanted his heart to break so he could move on, and trust me so did he. He would pray every night to his heart to stop working. If it broke then at least he might see the shadows she speaks of, and maybe he would stop seeing the perfection she brought to his world. Still he always knew letting go was never a solution to his plight, she didn’t understand letting go carried with it its own hazard. Letting go, admitting that his heart lies and his eyes are useless would damage his soul beyond repair. It would kill the spark that fuels his passion. This is what she wants, this is what she thinks he needs, but this would be a lie he would never believe. He can’t stop seeing her for what she is, what she has always been, and what she is meant to be. He wish he could beg her for a chance but he loves her too much to for that. He could give into weakness, it would be so easy to plead for what he wants, but he can’t. He has never has never even tried. Doing so would bring him down to the level of all the other men that have taken selfishly from all her life. He tells himself, “Silence is the better than lies, silence is better than selfishness.” Lately silence has become his best friend. He would never be strong enough to walk away, but he know she is stronger than that. She could survive a world without him so that’s why he learned to love silence, and maybe he could survive a world without her but it would be a world without color, flat and void of any meaning. He would slip occasionally from his vow of silence, well maybe quite often, but that was still a fraction of the fire that she inspired within him. “Maybe one day things will be different, maybe one day the timing will be right, and if not this life maybe the next,” he tells himself as he falls into his bed exhausted every night. Loving in silence is exhausting if you have ever tried it, and he’s been doing it longer than he cares to remember. It sounds in insane but he loved her before they met, the only truth he had every really taken into his heart was this love he feels when he looked at her. It made him strong, it made him weak, but above all loving her made him who he always knew he should be. Maybe one day she would come to accept his love for what it is, maybe one day she’ll understand this will never change and thousand years of loneliness would do nothing to dull his love, not that this will change her heart but at least she will know he’s not blind in his desires.

Almost everyone has felt heart break at least once, myself included. For me it’s been three. For me she was the third, but this time was different because my hearts refuses to break. I knew from at first sight she was destined to hurt me. Not because she was cruel or indifferent in anyway, I just knew some how she was beyond my reach. The beauty and grace that surrounded her would intimidate any man. For me it was like looking at a distant star knowing impossible spans of time and space separate kept us apart. So why do I try, why at this very moment have I not given up. Logic and reason tell me otherwise, but there is something inside that tells me I can change the stars. Foolish I know, and I have heard it a thousand times from a thousand different voices. None of these words matter. I just know I need to love her. Where will this end? I do not know, nor do I care. To me she is air, to my she is more precious than my own blood, and if I have to be perfectly honest with you I have known heart break beyond the number three. My heart breaks a little each day I live without her, my heart breaks each second I’m away from her. I’m not sure why my heart hasn’t submitted to the pain. I don’t even know I can’t stop wanting her. None of her words give me hope, neither do any of her actions. Am I delusional? If I am there is no hope for me. I just feel it, something deep inside my soul, something silent and true guiding me to her heart. So where does this leave me? I am not quite sure. Lesser men would walk away I know that. Maybe that’s the smart thing to do. This is definitely the road less traveled. Please don’t misunderstand, all this conviction does not have it’s trials and it’s momentarily slips of conviction, but when my heart stops racing and my vision clears there she is, there she always is and with one sweet breath I’m back in orbit spinning around her. You could say I’m a romantic, always hoping against hope, reaching for impossible moments, but I don’t mind. She’s worth it. I’ve spent my life ignoring the beats of my own heart. I’m done with the quiet desperation that plagues this world. My one true religion is loving her, it brings me peace and kills my demons. What it comes down to is the fact that I know the love in my heart is true. Nothing else matters. I know most people are not lucky enough to know a love as true as this so I will follow it to my end, and if all I get is a chance to dance in the shadow of her light I will die happy. I know I sound mad. Most people love for a reason, but I don’t need reason to love her. Just watch her for a few minutes and you’ll see. You’ll see she an angel in every sense of the word, gentle beautify, quiet strong compassion, and a pure heart. Just watch her move, just watch her breathe, watch her speak, and you will see what I see. It is a subtle quiet song she sings, but hear it once and you will never forget. I’m sorry I could go on forever, trying to capture her beauty in words is one of my favorite games. I never win, I keep hoping one day I will fall upon a magically string of words that will set her free. I say set her free because she is trapped in an invisible prison of her own creation. She may be unique, beautiful, and undeniably special, but she doesn’t see it. She carries with her a quiet deep pain from her childhood. You see was never taught that her unique qualities should shine and she was taught by neglect and abuse to deny her beauty. Maybe she doesn’t consciously deny anything, these early years damaged her eyes and when she looks into the mirror she doesn’t see what you and I see. It’s a sad truth that the unique souls like her suffer this persecution in life. She suffered at home, and she suffered at school. Children can be cruel and her middle school was no different.

Almost everyone has felt heart break at least one, myself included. For me it’s been three. For me she was the third, but this time was different. I knew from at first sight she was destined to hurt me. Not because she was cruel or indifferent in anyway, I just knew some how she was beyond my reach. The beauty and grace that surrounded her would intimidate any man. For me it was like looking at a distant star knowing impossible spans of time and space separate kept us apart. So why did I try, why at this very moment have I not given up. Logic and reason tell me otherwise, but I know there is something inside.

She obviously caught my eye. I knew she was special right from the start, and all I wanted was to get closer. Somethings you just know, somethings just feel right, and loving her was one of those things. The following Monday she was on my mind. Looking back I am not sure I knew what I was doing when I sent her that instant message.There was a gravity to her pulling me in, pulling me home. I wasn’t sure how to open this conversation so I just sent her a generic “Hi.” She responded, “Hi”. I asked, “Is this you?” I never got her last name, but I knew her first name, luckily it was unique enough to be the only one in our company. She apparently recognized my name enough to respond, “Yes this is me.” I asked about her last name since it was also unique and I have never seen it before. I inquired as how to pronounce it. That was it, from there our conversations have always flowed. I still don’t know how to explain our connection only that it is natural and meant to be. From there our friendship quickly grew. Looking back at our early conversation I was an open book almost to a scary level. I am still not sure why she didn’t run for the hills. Any sane person would have immediately pursued a restraining order. The only explanation is that she felt the same love and deep connection I felt. She was an early riser and I quickly morphed to the same so I could spend early morning virutally with her chatting about everything from our childhoods to the weather. She was fascinating with so many great stories, and again she would fight me on this point. There is nothing I love on this earth I love more our conversations. She always leaves me wanting more. Moderation is something not easy with her. Really she was a godsend for me. I met her during the aftermath of one of the most loniess times of my life. My mother has just recently died, and my relationship with my high school sweet heart had disintegrated in a horrible angry mess. One could easily say this connection with Jadie was a self created delusion due to the troubled times, but some deep part of tells me otherwise. Eventually after about a week of initial conversations she invited me to go hiking on a Sunday morning. I was living alone in my house at the time having recently separated from my long-time girlfriend. I was excited to see her outside of work. I was familiar with several hiking trails near my house so I asked her to meet at one of the local trailheads., Unfortunately I went out with my cousin the night before and over drank. I still remembering the horrible sound of my phone ringing that morning. It was her and it was 15 minutes past our agreed meeting time. I answered and she immediately said, “Joseph I’m going home.” I convinced her to wait just a few more minutes pleading, “Give me five minutes and I will be there.” Sadly this would be not the last time I disappointed her. Luckily she somehow feels I am worth the trouble because as I am writing this sentence she still has not given up on me. It is sad that I see her completely, but I have never given her the chance to see me completely.

She is the story of my life and the object of my purest affection, but before I get into the details of my story I need you to first meet her. She’s beautiful, but not because her obvious physical qualities, which by themselves are exquisite, but because within seconds of meeting her you realize a heart like her is why the world spins. She is the strongest most gentle creature I will ever know. Her compassion could melt the poles and her heart is not afraid of anything (anything except love, which is the paradox of her life,but we will get into later). She is kind of women that can talk to anyone, whether it be at an opera or the local dive bar. She moves and breathes with an accessible divine sophistication that is impossible to resist. Her countless charms are never ending. Her heart is tenaciously fierce and never stops when it comes to defending something she loves. Incredibly despite her all this beauty and wonder she still has never forgets the roots of her humble childhood. Although being asian she grew up in a predominantly hispanic neighborhood in urban Los Angeles, affectionately called Dogtown by its inhabitants. This multi-cultural urban upbringing just adds to the infinite facets of her allure. I have known her for years and still are caught off guard by her unique talents or taste, such as her affinity for michelada’s. Sadly this beautiful soul suffered at a young age and because of these trouble time her eyes she everything through a shade a sadness, skewing her perception of herself and the world. I can only hope and pray one day someone will be able to lift her shade of sadness and bring to her the undefinable irresistible beauty she brings to everyone she touches. Over the past few years she has become my best friend. Really I have recognized her to be more than this, she is my soul mate. I never really believed in this term “soul mate” until I met her. To me it was the stuff of fairy tales and children’s bed time stories, but that all changed the first time I met her. It was an interesting night, I was in the middle of the disintegration of my twenty year relationship, and I was playing wing man for my friend. One of my good friends was interested in her and I was there to play wingman for him. She was bringing along a friend I had been casually attracted to so I figured what the hell a night out might do me good. The night started uneventfully at a local wine bar with the usual casual conversations of a first date, but within the first few minutes something inside woke up. Something ancient that had lied within in me dormant my entire life. Our conversation flowed with the cadence of life long friends. The troubles of the world floated away and even the two other people at our table greyed out. To be honest I don’t remember much of the night except her, and our first dance. She wanted to dance, unfortunately the band was playing brown eyed girl by Van Morrison. This song was drenched in memories of my ex-girlfriend at the time. In that moment I started believing in magic. Once dance and she wiped away that bad memory. That was day one, June 22, and since then I haven’t been the same. Knowing her has seemed like one long day. Its always been hard for me to trace our timeline because I feel deep down inside parts of me have always known her. She actually was a co-worker and had worked in the same building for several years, and despite having numerous common acquaintances some how our paths had never crossed. This may sound crazy to you, and I know she thinks I’m crazy, but I dreamed about her years before we met. I still remember the dream like it was last night. It was only silhouettes clouded by shadows, but I remember it vividly. Her silky dark hard, smooth skin, the elegant lines of her face and those eyes, those beautiful warm brown eyes. Here eyes are really the most beautiful thing about her. If you are ever close enough to really look into them you will feel what I am talking about. They cover you in a warm soft glow, it’s what I imagine heaven gates to feel like. If she could hear me now she’d tell me I’m blind, but I know I am not everything I know, everything I am knows she is trully beautiful. I see her, and maybe its true the heart sees what is blind to the eye, but I see her she is perfect, loveable, and completes the universe for me. I’ve never seen or felt anything so perfectly as I do her.