Loving Her, Seeking Her II

I saw her at the Party of The Year. I say that because it was the best party we had ever had, much better than the ones we had had in Switzerland when we were students and poor. We were now working, earning the American dollar, living on the upper west side of Manhattan, and we considered ourselves wealthy.

She was at the Party with friends of ours and it was the first time I had seen her. She had the most beautiful eyes I had seen in a long time, and I wanted desperately to speak with her. She was busy speaking with everyone else but me, as I was huddled in a corner on crutches, having twisted my ankle. She didn't seem to even notice me smiling in her direction. I couldn't see anyone else that night because I wanted to speak only with her.

Finally, I prayed that she would at least glance at me so that I could determine whether we could connect. She glanced at me, and we connected. She sauntered over and asked what I had done to my ankle. I was embarrassed to be on crutches but overjoyed at the same time. I didn't know how I would pursue her or what I would say to our parents, but I knew I had to marry her, or die a bachelor.

I knew that when the evening sun was setting, I'd want her by my side. I knew that when the years had had their toll, I'd want her by my side. I knew that even when the day was cold and grey, and the night was dark and dim, I'd want her by my side. I told her I would die young, so that even if she didn't really care, she'd know that she could have her freedom back. I didn't know how much she cared or I'd have pursued for more than a year or two, I'd have waited for an eternity, and all eternities combined, and all eternities combined.

My parents came to visit, but I was so afraid that they would think she didn't care, that I told them she was busy with the law. She knew that they were visiting, but didn't make the usual pitch that others would have made, to ensure they knew she was the future mate. But when they left I hated that I'd wanted them apart, for fear that they would know my vain pursuit. They had made the trip to meet her, and had made that very clear when they returned. So I planned a trip back home in the hope that she would join me, but once again, she never said a word.

I soon would come to see that for reasons even she did not foresee, she wasn't free to marry me. She knew the love of God and could not love another, for another would have meant a love less bold, another would have meant a love less new, another would have meant a love that never could have met the Lord's purview, and another would have meant that all our cherished dreams would not come true. The Lord should know that if for any reason he should leave her in despair, I'd quickly make a turnaround and catch her in the air.

Knut