You’re beautiful! You’ve got this wonderful light about you! Whomever you touch today, they’ll be better for it. You’re so greatly loved. ❤️  

…

She lights up the room! She’s magic in the air. Even on those mornings when she doesn’t appear. You see her again in your mind. Her sun rises in your heart. It’s like when McCartney said regarding the Beatles, “We’d listen to other bands we liked. And the other songs on the album sounded like the song we liked, but not as good.” So they went about it differently and more expansively. And that’s her song to you. She’s never the same song twice! She’s never “the same song but not quite as good.” She is a thousand shades of light always shifting! Always becoming something new. And she changes you. Imagine everything you ever thought was beautiful and it all comes together and explodes! And you’re flying high! She’s delicate and delicious and surreptitious and ambitious! She’s light and brilliance and dedication and surprise! Can you imagine being her friend? You’d die a thousand deaths inside! Just like the previous thousand, all over again! She’s so funny, and she’s smart! She’s so astute. What’s hard for others comes so easy to her. You would even consider being an Uber driver just in the hope that she’s your ride! But that might scare the hell out of her, so, no, you wouldn’t do that! Plus, it would mean I’d have to drive. A scary proposition in itself! Someone says it’s impossible to be her friend. She’s a star. And you’re, well, you. So you look around. Your eyes do, but your heart isn’t to be found. Not there. And still another said this period is about waking up, and bursting through illusion. It’s not a time to be focused on pie in the sky! It’s time to streamline on one dream through the confusion. Maybe there’s somebody who looks kind of like her, who has a touch of her magic in her eyes. Somebody where you luck out, and she sees something she likes about you inside. But it’s like sifting through sand, a Cracker Jack box with no surprise. Nobody else will do. Her smile heals me inside. And she is so unbearably stunning when she gives her serious look. Something of a young Katherine Hepburn or Amelia Earhart, or a million female warriors all stronger than their male counterparts. Or Maureen O’Hara when she says, “It’s a bold one you are!” But somewhere in her saying it, you feel this energy hiding in it. She’ll never say it, but maybe she likes that you’ve tried so very hard. Giving up everything to follow her star. Even if it never gets you very far. Even if after all that journey you’re still standing exactly where you are. Beaten up and tattered, and when the world says, “Have you had enough?” You answer “May I have another?” And it’s met with a head shake. You’ve fallen off a cliff, but you’ve caught a branch on the way off the mountain and you’re fixed in a nook. Where it’s a thousand feet down. You’re holding on for dear life inside that little crevice. And after rainstorms, and endless sunsets and sunrises, when so many others have disappeared, you’re still holding there. Angling for a spot in her heart. You’re pesky, and on those days where it comes over you that you’re a fool and you’ve been living in this impossible dream, you just stare down the thought, your face soaking wet, determination in your eyes, and you say, “Is that all you’ve got? May I have another?” And the thing is, you know this guy, this pesky mouse, with a heart beating like a lion, will hold there until his body lets go. And gives up the ghost. Because he certainly won’t. His body might give out, but his spirit won’t let go. He’s found a little nook by catching a branch on the way off a cliff. Safe from the rain, he’ll just cling there, forever. He’s not cocky, he doesn’t see himself as brave. He’s drawn to her, that’s all. Like a moth to the flame. “It’s a bold one you are.” Your only hope is a long game. Not weeks or months, but of years. When the scenery has changed, and she’s long forgotten you, when she’s surveying capsized boats in the ravine. And she shakes her head when she sees you’re still in that little nook, in the side of the mountain. After years have come and gone. Still hanging on, even after all the names have changed. This one part of the scenery has stayed the same. She could be ninety by then, when she shakes her head, and as a goddess with all her power, she lifts the curse, the light returns, and she decides to let you in, because you’ve earned it. And only she determines the sentence and the length of time. But come rain or shine, you’ll be holding there, and it’s not some kind of penance. It’s heaven! Even heaven when it’s hell. Because there is simply nobody like her! Her beauty is just staggering! And you could draw lines on it with age, and add on weight, and some pranking kid could draw a mustache. The work of her is a work of art. It goes so far beyond the canvas. It’s her!! There could be some other, where you’re welcomed in the room and out of the rain and even showered with affection. But you choose this spot in the rain and the snow, standing outside a window. And when the pain comes and the futility and the hopelessness, of love shared only for others, you feel the carving out grayness inside you, and you say, “Is that all you got? May I have another?” And you bat it away. And that’s the difference between the strong and the weak. You see what no one else around you sees. That in time the whole field could look completely different. And you’ve lived a thousand lives. You’ll wait this whole one out, waiting on her star. With no regrets no matter. After a thousand lives, what is simply another? You’re playing cosmic long ball, while others are playing poker. Of cards and hands dealt. You might not be good for much, but you know when it comes to her heart, of all the attractive suitors, no matter who it is, in a battle of time, you would outlast. You don’t know much! Maybe you know nothing at all. But you know this much in your heart. In tests of strength you might lose a handful of others, but this one you would prove to win as years pan out. Regardless of the length of the storm and the deluge of rain. If not in this life, you’ll try again in the next. Always going on, but never overstepping! No, never! You’d fall off the cliff! Remember you’re in that little nook, hanging on, staring over the precipice! You just love her from there. With every ounce of your being. Would you give your life for her? In a heartbeat! In a second! In the hope you get a chance again to see her again in the next one. What’s a thousand years when you have eternity on your side? And maybe someday, a someday so far away, she notices you, getting wet in the rain, in that little nook in the cliff. And maybe today, you don’t know it, but perhaps it’s a day where she looks! And she lends her warm and mischievous smile. Oh, that smile of hers! It saves. And she quietly whispers to herself, “It’s a bold one you are.” While Christmas goes on inside her warm quarters. Taking refuge in a nook in a cliff in the rain. My heart is forever lighted. For her. What’s eternity, in a long playing game? She is the goddess. She is the empress. She is sublime and she is heart stopping. She is untold, unspeakable beauty sent directly from above. Her eyes will sear right through you! She’ll change how you perceive! You’re in a little nook in a cliff in the rain. And you’re utterly over-the-moon delighted! To simply have a view of her! It’s the way she deserves to be loved. ❤️