I write this in confidence. Two thousand seven hundred and forty days, give or take a two, since I last saw you. Short of a few thousand from a decade beckons in this day and age. I would ask if you would still choose me as your love or have you taken someone else to the river? I remain That Other Petra Guy, the same who everyone thought was lame but, being with you painted me with fame.
I write this in confidence. I know you see the man in me yet let me speak a little bleakly and sow to your furrow, support you through that restless whim and pray that this time there is no bother. I left you a queen of many and now you have your princess to plenty. Now that I dream of return, I wish to cross this river towards you again.
I write this in confidence. Like a child at play, I remember the things that you did that soon became what we did. From joy to passion, to despair and action. Its things like these that brought us together like one faction. But, its things like these that gave us less traction. And yet I still dream to cross that Limpopo ocean towards your embrace again.
I write this in confidence, so as to give you insurance on the truthiness of my words. So do not be hindered for I come bearing gifts and treats to satisfy your tasteful needs. So think of me on my way? Think of the sweetness we gave each other and the freshly cut grass we played on. And the late nights we spent under strict curfews without rent.
I write this in confidence; for I will come in spirit and not in self. Though it hurts to say; all this is just a test. Like the songs I sang to you in the shed and our names we sketched on our lips at the back of the book chest. Those tippy-toe moments cause you were taller than me or those shy moments cause the length of your beauty was too long for any explanation. You were my beautiful freak of nature.
I write this in confidence. Time will tell if we will ever hold hands again but, I will find you one day, in this terror of a treacherous world, I will find you again. In your dreams I will find us again. Whether its a decade from now or turning back the hands to the past; I will make our paths cross. And if not I will take what I left in your thoughts; memories and memories of our love in the high school days.
This is my poem of a letter in a story of our past in this present to you for our future.
Dear Petra…I want my heart back!
Photo Credit: Scott Webb