When I first saw you in the church, your eyes held a light that I had been searching for across centuries. The way you hummed that ancient melody, as if it were a secret only we shared, made me believe that fate had finally brought us together again.
But fate is a cruel mistress. It gives us moments of bliss only to tear them away, leaving us with nothing but memories and the ache of what could have been. I have watched you from the shadows, my heart breaking with every step you took towards a life that was never meant to be yours.
I have painted you a thousand times, each stroke of the brush a testament to my undying love. The portrait that now hangs in the gallery is but one of many, yet it holds a piece of my soul. The earrings you once wore, now immortalized in paint, are a reminder of the night we danced under the stars, when the world seemed to stand still just for us.
I do not know if you will ever read this letter, or if it will be lost to time like so many of our moments together. But know this, my dear Z:
no matter how many lifetimes pass, I will always find you. I will always love you.