Shakespeare, Byron, Baudelaire could search the furthest corners of language and still not find the poetry to convey who you are. Nothing can come close to describing you. No words, no music, no painting, no sculpture can bring you to life. All falls short. You are beyond words. Unique, unmatchable, unquantifiable. The indefinable essence of you. Only you.
The miracle of you.
And I can’t see it. I can’t see you because I look at you and all I can see is what I need. I need you to be more this and less that. I need you to do this and that. To reassure me. To make up for what I’m missing. I need you to be different. I need you to be how I think you should be.
I look at you and I believe I see you but all I see is my insecurity and need disguising itself as you. I think it is you. This projection of my worst fears looks like you. I shout and rail against this mirror. And I see nothing.
And perhaps that is the whole purpose of my life. Maybe this is the reason I am here. To see myself so clearly that in return I receive the miracle gift of you. To see through those fears and wants, to see through them to the simple witness that I am.
A simple witness of what is. That is all I am. And within that all, the human capacity of believing that I am something else.
If that idea were to fall away, I would simply be what I am and then finally I could see you. And the more I saw, the deeper in love I would fall. Falling through the layers of belief that once looked true, deeper and deeper to the only place that could ever make sense.
Eyes would open for the first time. Vision would widen to capture every detail of your being. Ears for the first time would tune to every nuance of your voice. My touch would receive the vibrant life of you.
Without question I am in love with you. You are in love with me. And one day I will see it, know it.
The day when I need nothing. The day when the witness that I am places no burden on your shoulders. No condition on your being. The day when there is nothing you have to be for me. You won’t need to see me or love me. That will have nothing to do with it.
The witness I am, but have not yet embodied or realised, will bring you freely into existence. It will be the stage in which your magnificence plays out.
I will see me and then I can see you.
That will be my reward.
To be the witness of you.
To, finally, see you.