People often choose the wrong moments to make themselves known. I’ve watched the exuberance at weddings and I’ve watched the instant when a beloved is farewelled. Between the two, the embrace at parting struck me as the more pleading, the more humble.
I’ve seen people raise supplicating cries to the Creator inside a mosque and I’ve seen the desperate pleas of a patient lying in a hospital bed. Even there, the patient’s cry felt deeper, truer to me.
I’ve observed that emotions run deepest in the wrong time and the wrong place. It has been so for me as well, you were my wrongness. If I have ever asked anything of anyone in this world with pure innocence, it was love from you as like a beggar.
Yet at day’s end, a farewell embrace, a dying patient’s prayer or my own begging for love bring only more despair and loneliness. There is no possibility of return, no certainty of remaining days to live and no guarantee, none at all, that your love will come back to me or that our union will ever happen.