Undiscovered Love Affair


I never met you, knew you, or had your love but then I did. The image of the girl who would walk up to me in life, as if it were some railway station and laugh, smile and warm your heart in my embrace faded slowly from my hopes.

That image of your soft brown hair and loving eyes and cosy coat keeping you all warm, and with that scarf of yours peeping from your collar, and those brown shoes you loved, because your dad had bought them never materialised and so I made do with adding tales of disaster to a life apparently lived to amuse those more caring of themselves than I.

I dreamed of our conversations, and the way you’d smile when I did something silly, and how you’d know me like no other and make each moment with you like a prayer. I looked for you in places when young: confident that soon our paths would cross in some gallery or long since vanished bookshop, and then less frequently because the hope you’d match your step with mine faded with time and advancing years.

You would not love me now, raddled as I am by disappointment, and choices sculpted out of desperation rather than good judgement: the victim of my own chaotic search for perfection, rummaging through careers, and eating romance as if it were a chocolate: wasting my innocence on the fruitless quest to find you and build some idyll: passing my life in the search for the perfect moment.

Now, with my last sip of innocence, I reflect on my growing sense of obsolescence, part of a world disengaging from its rhythms in the blind search for improvement.

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About Peter Wells aka Countingducks

Trying to remember what my future is
This entry was posted in creative writing, Fiction, Love, Peter Wells, Relationships, Romance, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

16 Responses to Undiscovered Love Affair

  1. ksbeth says:

    sometimes the affairs in the mind are the most passionate

    Like

  2. catterel says:

    Don’t we all carry the platonic ideal of the soulmate within us?

    Like

  3. Ah, the laments of a love unrequited…or perhaps it was.

    Like

  4. bloggeray says:

    This is such a gem. Loved reading it. The dreams and daydreams of a would-be lover!

    Like

  5. Al says:

    Isn’t that what Playboy magazine is for?

    Like

  6. How poignant. That feeling of ‘It’s too late” is so depressing.

    Like

  7. russtowne says:

    I especially enjoyed this powerful post. It evoked memories, moments, and emotions that haunt so many.

    Like

  8. Always reaching for the pot of gold and forgetting to love the rainbow…

    Like

  9. I think at times wr all experience this feeling of what idealistic love would be. You have captured this realistically in this story, Peter. A melancholic yet touching read.

    Like

  10. Makes my heart ache …

    Like

  11. nelle says:

    I love how you capture these snapshot moments of introspection. You are a master at it.

    Like

  12. tiostib says:

    an exquisite recollection of a painful truth.

    Like

  13. ***how you’d know me like no other and make each moment with you like a prayer***

    Love that sentence, darling. x

    Like

  14. gotham girl says:

    I think somehow we all can relate to this! Love the phrase…eating romance as if it was chocolate! You have such a way! Great!

    Like

  15. eths says:

    It’s nice to catch up on your writing!

    Like

  16. The lover there that never was… on different levels, we search in these places that we wish for, or continue to project an image of perfection in those we meet, but alas, alas, such as you have penned is the truth of life.

    Like

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