I am dead.
I watch as my friends in a strange white walled building, the world, mourn me.
I see my beloved, though she is unaware, mourn me. I see tears for me, I hear wails for me. I see coworkers gather around her to comfort.
I wander in and out of places, people seeing me but not. One woman sees me, but dismisses me as a figment of her head. My mother mourns, next to a body of water that seems out of place.
And slowly, I begin to become alive again, and I find my beloved. We embrace, longingly, and she fulfills my yearning with a kiss, unforced, according to her own decision.
I an instantly lost in a room of heart.
Even after I wake, I cannot leave the room of heart: It transcends my consciousness. I am in a room of heart, after a dream, after a feeling that has been touched ever so gently in a dream world. I yearn threefold now, tasting my reward, yet never having tasted it.
I know what it is to feel and have what I have never felt nor had.
I know longing bridges two realities.
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