Deserting my colours

You can miss your soulmate if you encounter her too early or too late.

Slowly, my view is blurring, the world around me is fading. I’m fainting as the blood is streaming out of my wrists. I don’t see a light at the end of the tunnel. There even isn’t a tunnel. A wraith is all that suddenly appears.

It must have been a hell of a party. She was dancing boisterously. Her fair, pinned-up hair was streaming. It seemed as if there was no yesterday and no tomorrow.

I was standing by the French door that opened on the veranda and watched her dance. It seemed as if all her sorrow had gone.

She was wearing a beautiful low back, halter-neck gown in red, with a slight black
streak underlying the neckline. Her black high heels were glamorous.

She was in the middle of the room, right in the center of everything, but unreachable to all those of us who were standing on the outside of the circle ablaze with light through her vibes. She created a compelling centripetal force.

Suddenly someone on the veranda called her name and told her that he had arrived. Her wonderful brown eyes lightened up even more and she ran past me, out onto the veranda. But instead of going to that boy, she paced back and forth, finally ending up next to some girls standing not far away from that boy.

After several minutes she came back, stopped right next to me, obviously without noticing me, or not wanting to notice me. I was smashed by her incomparable, ravishing beauty once again. She was a revelation. But, most importantly, she was out of reach.

I realized that she was me, many years ago and understood that I have to let her go: I have no place in her life anymore.

Slowly, I’m sailing over the Styx.

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