Forever

I fled to the library today after being completely discouraged by the conditional requirements and expectations of those that I love the most, and for an hour I disappeared. I walked along a cobblestone path on a bleak day in Poland. The sky was overcast and as I walked past bustling servants, dress shops and small children playing in the street, I heard a piano. The music floated across the stone walkway and into the door of a coffee shop where a small pale man sat over a steaming cup of coffee. He was in a trance from the music; a piece of paper and a writing tool were in his hand. I saw yellow hair and vivid blue eyes sunken into his pasty skin, and intensity emanated from his face and fell onto the page. I saw him glance up and stare unwavering through the glass into the window across the street at the young woman playing the piano. I entered the shop and ordered a cup of tea before pulling the chair from beside him and reading the letter of passionate love, devotion, and purity that is documented as one of the most romantic love stories of all time, Soren Kierkegaard and Regina Olsen.
My Regine!
May God grant you a happy new year: many smiles and few tears!
I send you a handkerchief with this. I have had it placed under your pillow. If at some point you suddenly awaken frightened by a painful dream and cannot hold back your tears do wipe them away with this "linen cloth." Then you will remember that I sent it to you and that I myself would like to stop them. But when happy and contented, rich like the poor widow who gave away everything she possessed, richer than the world, you lay your head upon the same pillow, then this linen cloth will remind you of me once more and that you have wiped away my tears, the only person who has ever done so, as you are the only one who has ever seen them. Then, whenever you want to do so, you will easily see my picture in this cloth.
Your S.K.
The story of Kierkegaard and Olsen ends tragically as he sends her his ring a signal of their broken engagement claiming that his love for her forbids their unity.
Kierkegaard was an extreme melancholy plagued by his thoughts, captive to his insights and philosophies, drawn into himself and struggling to get out. Olsen wanted his love without loving all of him, she wanted the man but not the poet, romantic, melancholy...she would not work to know the heart of the man that she loved.
I wonder if my life will end with this fate. I know that I can love, but my life and my existence runs deeply instead of in breadth. Although I love, would it ever be right for me to ask of anyone to love me, to invest the quality and depth and sincerity that would yield an amazing love far more wonderful than could ever be imagined? My heart and expression is deeper, thoughtful, protected, I'm sorry that I might be alone forever.

God, please continue to unveil this mystery and may I give you every honor that is in my power to give you. I love you. Amen