Longing and crushing are somehow related, as they both wear off after a while - at least if not somehow reinforced.

Longing, however, can apply to about anything you desire,where crushing is typically focused on a member of your preferred sex, and (some say) it is at it's heart about the thin to non-existant chance of sex with such person. So some say.

But I'll tell you, I am really longing for a shiny female robot to do my bidding, bring me cups of espresso late at night, and I would imagine that I could also have a crush on such a robot. mmm. some kind of Barbarella mixed with Emma Peel robot.

Okay. So this time it's not just words, you know. This time it is in my gut. If I could show you a picture of the way it was twisted, you would know what I meant. Still, try to see it like I say.

My heart is like a scared rabbit. Hopping erratically. No. My eyes suddenly scrunched up and wet, trying to get a clearer image in my head. No. My hands clenched around a pathetic piece of paper, crumpled because I am trying to hold on to something nowhere near this room.

No. I mean a whole damn wave, exactly like they say it, a beautiful cliched wave of longing. I did not really believe these waves existed but they do. I just felt one.

Longing - Matthew Arnold

Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again!
For so the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.

Come, as thou cam'st a thousand times,
A messenger from radiant climes,
And smile on thy new world, and be
As kind to others as to me!

Or, as thou never cam'st in sooth,
Come now, and let me dream truth,
And part my hair, and kiss my brow,
And say, My love why sufferest thou?

Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again!
For so the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.

Everyone else had moved on, but still Aldin held out. Every night, he stood watch at the edge of the clearing of the dead castle, awaiting the return of his savior. He dared not venture closer; not even the crows would pass into the clearing.

He had begun to wonder if his faith was misplaced. For months he had come here, always with the childlike expectation that this time he'd be right. Had he been seeking something that never was? He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

It would not be tonight, he realized. The window of opportunity had passed. Perhaps tomorrow. He considered that maybe he should just stay in, but what if the great one finally returned? He wasn't sure he could bear it if he missed that.

Aldin stood up, brushed himself off, collected himself. By chance, he glanced up at the sky. He froze. Something was up there. It was a red star that had not been there before. Before Aldin's transfixed eyes, the speck of light grew larger and larger and suddenly shot down out of the sky, colliding with the ground in an explosion of earth. As if paralyzed, Aldin watched the smoke and dust clear.

Snapping out of the trance, he cautiously entered the clearing and made his way to the crater. He stood at the lip and gazed down into the ruin. In the center, there lied a small, round object. Aldin felt the thing pulling at him, drawing him in. Unaware of his movements, he climbed down into the hollow and crouched by its heart.

It was a seed. Intrigued by its seemingly impossible survival, Aldin reached out and picked it up. Turning it over in his hand, he wondered how such a small, fragile thing had managed to be virtually untouched by the immense blast.

A sudden squawk from above made Aldin jump. Pocketing the seed, he looked for the source of the noise. A flock of vultures had assembled there, waiting hopefully for something to die. Aldin had an uneasy feeling that he was that something. He scrambled out of the crater and hurriedly left the clearing. Not wanting to stay at this accursed place any longer, he began the journey home.

As he traveled, Aldin pulled out the seed and examined it. It was a small brown object, round but with one end extended. As he looked at it, he felt that it needed him. It was dying, and only Aldin could revive it. Arriving home, he removed his coat and tracked down a flowerpot, which he filled with soil. Delicately, he dug a small hole, placed the seed inside, and buried the thing. Picking up the pot, Aldin walked over to the well. Just before he began drawing up water, he felt that something was wrong. This would kill the seed, not save it.

Aldin put the pot on the kitchen table, donned his coat, and left with a bucket. The waters of Lake Gemir, only those aged waters would do. It would be a hard journey, especially the return, but it wouldn't be insufferable.

Aldin dutifully watered the seed over the following weeks. Long rejected as a pariah, he came to consider it his best and, indeed, only friend, marvelling at its growth and even giving it a name: Viera.

And Viera's growth truly was a marvel. Not two days had passed when she first pushed up from the dirt, growing immediately to the height of a small sunflower. Smooth and soft, her slender stalk almost reached Aldin's chest. The next day, a bud had grown atop the young plant, about the size of a cherry. What sort of flower would bloom there?

Aldin's anticipation became nearly unbearable as Viera's crown swelled. First the size of a cherry, it soon was soon as large as an apple, a watermelon, a small bear. Viera's vitality was indisputable.

In the dead of winter, months after he found the seed, Aldin opened his door and saw his beloved Viera, withered and crumpled on the floor. She had bloomed during Aldini's sleep, bloomed and then perished. Distraught, Aldin rushed over to the remains and collapsed beside them. What had all this been for?

A slight movement at the corner of his bleary eye. Aldin turned to look and saw...

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Tall and slender, with brilliantly silver hair down to her waist, she was looking at him with piercing green eyes. There was an odd familiarity about those eyes, and how they blended into her delicate, plant-like dress...

Aldin gasped in realization. Unable to speak, he simply stared, looking for some sort of confirmation. Smiling, Viera opened her mouth and began to speak.

She wakes up from a dreamless sleep,
Empty bed to stare, no one to caress her hair.
Missing his cuddle, just a pillow to huddle.
Morning coffee to brew, memories in a stew.
Walks away to office, with a nice flying kiss.

A lonely silly boy in a land far away,
Waits in the window, watching his beau.
Her lips so red, makes the morning Sun fade.
His insides in a curl, missing his pretty girl.
Still in a trance, treasuring her parting glance.

Long"ing (?), n.

An eager desire; a craving; a morbid appetite; an earnest wish; an aspiration.

Put on my crown; I have immortal longings in me. Shak.

 

© Webster 1913.

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