If only

On that day, if only she had held onto my hand.
Imagine the possibility:


.........
(That's sad. I thought I was inspired by a movie from which this entry received its namesake, but I drew a blank) Maybe it was just too painful to actually put it on paper. I still imagine every night, in that serene hour before I complete my transfiguration to my dream self, and the hours before dawn when my limp corpse finally tugged on the chain and reeled my disembodied soul back to the rude reality that is consciousness. Every night I imagine..
What would happen, if on that day, she had said yes.
I wonder, if I would be in a far off land, a far off planet, the furthest reach of the last of the final frontier, and beyond, with her. How many passionate kisses would we have shared by now? Or under how many trees, and on how many meadows would we sit, and chat away idle afternoons until night fall, when I would pull her close and embrace her as the horizon embraces the sun. Would we spend the night lazed away, gazing at the infinite wonder of the heavenly sphere, drawing lines among constellations, and whisper softly into each other's ears, those sweet, sweet words.

Love.

If only she had reciprocated the very thing she benignly and unknowingly taught me. Oh, how naive I must have been, to think that a mere mortal could reach to the furthest heaven, that Icarus would reach the sun, that a lowly farmhand may have the hand of the princess of the tower?

Sweet, sweet love.

If only she had felt it too.
I can only imagine...