A Love Letter from Lake Bodensee
Saturday, November 9th 2024,
Bregenz,
Austria,
14:08.
My Dear N,
I am sitting on a wooden bench surrounded by a multitude of fallen golden
leaves overlooking Lake Constance here in the city of Bregenz around 13 km north
of Dornbirn. I am only here for six hours but even for such a short time, I am
overcome with emotion and thoughts as I sit here in the quietness of a November
afternoon. It would have been nice to have spent a few days and nights here but
still I am happy to be here and I know how lucky I am for my eyes to see such a
wonderful place.
All along the promenade people are walking and enjoying the calming influence
of Lake Constance, or as Austrians, Germans, and Swiss call it, Bodensee. I
recall in primary school learning about Lake Constance in geography class. I
never remember our teachers calling it Bodensee but we were taught about the
lake along with the Black Forest Mountains. I never thought then at such a
young age as a boy that one day I would come here as an adult and see it for
myself. How many of us as children can contemplate on such a time in the
future? We are only consumed with the child-like wonder and fantasies that
attach themselves to the imagination but then we grow quickly out of such
fantasies into adulthood as our brains grow and our wisdom increases
I am sad, N, that you and I never got to visit Lake Constance together. We
never talked about it as we were thinking about other things but I wonder how
we would we have experienced Bodensee as lovers. Would we have walked along the
promenade as our eyes would be fixated around the lake? Would I have been
annoying you with some silly thought to mask my own insecurities knowing that I
am in the presence of somebody I truly love? I cannot think of such thoughts
now because they will never come to pass. All I can do is to visit such
beautiful sights and to enjoy them internally with nobody to talk with and
nobody to love. My life is one of sheer loneliness now. It is painful for me to
no longer feel you by my side, N. My birthday will take place in two days from
now. I am reaching middle age and my body feels it and my mind knows it. I know
what is impending and there is nothing I can do to halt such an inevitable end
to a life that I am trying to appreciate and love with every fibre of my being.
There is a quaint and cream coloured gazebo positioned to my right and
overlooking Lake Constance. It is vacant now but I imagine it is busy with
couples capturing their own memories that will become frozen in time. I took a
few selfies there moments ago. That is all the memories that I can capture now.
I don’t have a beautiful lady to walk alongside anymore. I don’t have her to
gaze into her eyes and to see and to feel love. I don’t have her to listen to
that sweet voice that I can only barely remember as its tone resides deep
within my precious memories. I don’t have her to watch that enchanting smile
break out so suddenly along that countenance that I have fallen upon so many
endless nights as I try in vain to drift into a deep sleep. I don’t have her to
love and to be loved. I don’t have you, N, and I will never have you again.
I brought along a copy of my book from my hotel room in Dornbirn here to
Bregenz. I am going to write an inscription inside and sign it soon and then to
place it somewhere along the promenade of Lake Constance. I did it at the grave
of James Joyce in Zurich on Wednesday, and this will be the second moment and
second country that I will do this in. I have seen close by a glass cabinet
where books are placed for people to take from or to place a book in. Perhaps I
will place my book inside there or maybe just leave it along one of these
wooden benches that I am sitting on now for somebody to pass by and just maybe
take up and to bring home to read. It is another attempt of mine to try and
promote my book so that I will not be forgotten. You certainly will not be
forgotten N. I will never forget you, my dear. I will love You forever.
Always,
D xxxxx
P.S. Sit
silently, dream endlessly, and love eternally until the crashing waves carry us
away toward our permanent sleep.
Always,
D
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