BY ASHLEY ASTI
Where are you, my partner? I am waiting, hoping for you, praying for you, thinking of you, always. No image of you pops into my head when I think of you—how can I find you if I can’t envision you? I wish you could send me a picture of you so I knew what to look for and when and where. I wish I could know your arrival with more certainty.
It’s not that I believe in you, it’s that I know you, I feel you. And your energy is so strong that I can’t wait, I can’t wait; it consumes me. You live in me yet you are not here—what is this? Where are you? It feels like some cruel trick yet also like God showering love upon me; it is ecstasy and loss at once.
My heart hurts for you and only you can relieve it. Because you are the source, somehow. I clasped my hands and called to my grandma for guidance the other day, asking, “Are you there?” And, then, the sun came shining in with such intensity and wouldn’t let up until I knew she was there, bringing me the light. It will come, it will come, she told me. I am bringing it to you. As she draws back the curtains, I wonder, does she know you, has she found you?