First Letter To My Soulmate

I just realized there's a night out there where I figure this all out, a night I feel you have almost certainly already seen. You know it by heart, by the look on my face, a look that betrays my first time, in the midst of all of ours. The moment you knew, like a chance encounter in the library, and the rest fell into place. You knew straight away that I never tarried from that day, forth anyway, but it was all out of order for me and you. In something like life you were taught how to dream, in something like a dream I was shown how to live. These frustrating near misses only serve to build tension soon shifting, though it feels soon could not happen soon enough. So where does it start, this unwitting intrusion? In what era did the waiting for the beginning end for you? They are on repeat now, a familiar parade, perhaps the answer here is the same? I gaze hopefully at them'all, wait wistfully for your call, and imagine I am seeing you. Scene shift to the beach, heck I'd take the scene shifting you to me; it just seems high tide to shuffle, the season to slide, squarely with swift stride, straight to my/your side.

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