My Love,

In moments, I ask myself why?

Why have I been so injured by an accident?

And then, why have I been injured, again, by another?

Why am I now so prevented from external physical and mental manifestation in this material plane?

And why am I blocked from making music by calculating these blissful mathematical numerics, which take longer to identify and capture while my brain is on fire and hurting – even in just trying to navigate the simplest beginnings through eyes that can only dream now of how my life could be?

The only answer I can find is that I am supposed to wait for you.

For if I had all of my facilities, I would be wired by now to keep running and launch myself far beyond where you could reach me – so trained have I become in thinking that I must find ways to be content to be alone for the rest of my life – and so afraid, apparently, have I become to allow myself to believe in the truest art of loving again.

Yet, I would search the world, looking for you in every large to small venue and turning over every stone for any trace if I knew for sure that I had the right to – as well as had I the finances to support such a venture, which I lack, and so therefore find myself stuck in place here relegated to being my own restricted lady-in-waiting.

And know that there would be nothing and no one and no thing to stop me seeking for your soul’s truth and shaking it out from you up to the surface to be able to hear you say that you love me and for us to claim our rightful destiny together if I knew that this was what you truly desired and wanted.