You are my church. When I see the church, it reminds me of you ~he said to me today. When I hear the church bells, it’s how I hear your voice; it reminds me of you since the first day when I knew you.
When I travel abroad, I look for the church buildings that make me feel closer to the pretty girl I know. Because they are a symbol of the faith my loved one holds very dearly. ~he continued.
Today the church bells sing of your name. It showcases in my mind the warm memories we share—years of hoping, wanting, and waiting. You seem so far even now when we are so near. Let me walk in the path where she walked, even if she is forever gone. ~he confesses to crying out to the clouds one day.
I want to see the sites that adorn the town she called home since I met her in that particular room of the web. But will I ever hold her in my arms and caress the face I grew to love so much? I don’t know; the wait is so hard. So, I keep the souvenirs that life allows me to hold in my hands when I visit Paris.
I have the dreams of a young love that didn’t blossom into a full flesh Rose. There is no ocean in between us anymore. What’s the hold? Timing has never been on our side; probably, the church bells need to sound a little louder!
I plan to call you my wife forever, the one I loved. I will accompany in my guitar the bells sound that makes me tear up every Sunday morning at the square while I call in prayer the name I long for, Mariaan.