Tantalizing Love

Last night was a magical night. I met a woman whose grace transcended logic and confounded the laws of nature and harmony.

A paradox.

We have learned that balance governs our universe. It is in this balance that the world can exist and function. Without balance, the system, which we refer to as science, would malfunction, and our world would cease existence.

Or so I thought.

Last night, I was forced to renounce these obsolete theories when I met a woman who embodied beauty--not merely physical beauty, but true beauty above and beyond all comparison.

Beauty . . . what a pitifully insufficient word.

As her gaze ensnared mine, I thought to myself, no such polarity to her beauty can exist even amongst all the squalidness of this world and of Hell combined.

What I would do to have her . . . .

The fugacious moments we shared together were engraved in my soul. If ever I met my misfortunate demise and found myself in the lake of interminable suffering, I would need only to reflect on these moments to reach euphoria. For just one kiss from her, I thought to myself, I would drown in a sea of perpetual misery. This kiss, she promised me, would be mine before the night retreated.

The kiss . . . .

When the night had succumbed to the will of the sun, the deliverance of the promised kiss was due. Avidly, my gaze locked with hers as our souls fused and amalgamated. Time had stopped to become an eager spectator, pausing only briefly to share in my delight. The sun and moon ceased contention so that they too may witness the kiss from quintessential beauty. As if in a daze, my face leaned forward, my lips reached out, my pupils dilated, my throat constricted, my heart paused to gasp, my equilibrium abandoned me, my soul began to cry, my cells were ready to burst, and on the verge of spontaneous combustion, my eyes opened and read, 10:00 a.m.

The crisis . . . .

Lost in disarray, I waited for my eyes to adjust and explain the change in scenery. When my eyes focused, I realized what I was staring at: my clock. I was in my room, lying in bed. My heart sank like a block of osmium in water. It was a dream. How could she not be real? The love I felt for her remained profoundly impressed upon my heart and soul.

I have fallen hopelessly in love with a ficticious woman.

Screw it. I had found true love and it was real enough for me. I would plunge into the deepest depths of Hell just to see her face again. I hastily forced my eyes shut and shoved my consciousness back into the realm of dreams before my utopia could escape me. If Heaven granted me but one last prayer request, then face down would I fall and supplicate to the great Almighty. Lord, make of my eyelids two flaps of flaccid muscle. Let me remain perennially immersed in ecstacy with my love. Perhaps if I had found her, I would forbid my eyes from ever seeing daylight again.

Focus!

With much concentration, I found the utopia for which I was searcing. But the core of it had dissipated. Devoid of love, emptiness was all that remained. I had taken too long; she was gone. My love . . . was forever gone. I searched and searched, but to no avail. My dreams laughed at me, mocked me, ridiculed me, and tantalized me with a woman whom I would never again meet.