In a love so complete, as if a twenty four hour de-a-vu. Without words or consideration, everything belongs. Fully knowing each other never a question. Thoughts replace words. A bliss of silence in hours of contentment.
In a foreign land, hers. In an ancient room overlooking fresh snow dusted rooftops and chimneys. She asks to marry. I say, "when?" She replies, "tomorrow."
A quiet smiling breakfast. Out onto empty white powdered cobblestone. Loves perfection hand in hand, off to their simple destiny. Such an unusual stillness. Why are we the only ones here to experience this beauty, this clarity, this masterpiece in a perfect light.
She says "Fasching"... a national holiday. Everyone is still asleep. Town offices will be closed. No marriage today. We turned to each other locked in a soft glance and turned again without a word toward home. Not a question, not a sound, the de-j-vu continues. No disappointment, for the future is as fine as the present.
A bad economy, no work for a foreigner. Money running out. A decision to postpone the wedding till her school is finished. I shall return home to save the money for our next time together. A plane ride over the ocean in shock, total shock.
America in a bad economy also. No work, no quick return. Months pass, only phone calls.
I was stolen, I took the easy way out.
Since... dreadful silence.