gods it was peace. one of the few lives i had neither war nor violence nor ... any of the hells i so often endure. it was merely peace.
it's the first time i remember for sure meeting you, my love. we were somewhat upper class but not nobility. i *think* we were both of merchant families. i'm not quite sure of that. i know we courted and loved. we did not stay together for good--we both married others in marriages i am fairly certain were arranged. but it was merely not our time. we remained inseperable friends all that life. it was merely not our time as lovers yet. and i do not regret a moment of that life. but what i cherish most is this one day, in the garden.
it was a common "secret garden" that today sounds so idealized and chiche, but was so common then. there were huge stone walls surrounding a grassy area. vines and ivy climbed all these walls. and climbing roses on one, on top of the base of green. along the rose wall was a stone flowerbed or planter, filled with all variety of herb and bud and flower. near the corner of this wall and the one it touched that did *not* have the door, grew three trees. weeping willows, i think. out in the grass, but not in the center, rather nearer the flowers and trees, was a small round stone table, and two benches, also of stone.
i wore a grey angelwing dress in dove grey, trimmed in blood red. you wore dark dark grey tunic and pants, and black boots to your knees. and your hair, your amazing hair, curled down to the bottom of your shoulders, and mine fell to my waist. this is funny, really. we look so much now like we did then. it's the only body repeat i remember at all. maybe we did it this time to remind our souls by reminding our eyes. i dont know.
we just spent all day there. i think you MAY have given me my ring there, i'm not sure. but even then i wore it on my pinky. i think... we knew, even then. that we'd not last as lovers. and were cherishing our last time together, truly together like that. but just all day there in that garden. talking. walking. laughing. just living. on that table... was a silver chalice, along with a carafe of wine. we sipped from that one glass, rich red warm. and in a moment of spontaneous giddiness, tried to drink at once, cheek to cheek, lips next to one another. we did little but spill the wine, and nuzzle faces, laughing from the peace and joy.
it was bliss. a bliss stronger than nearly any other moment i remember. i miss that garden...
my own personal time capsule of lives