“Laska – Love, Lasko – My Love”.

This is my text message, Czech 101.

Oh, how I wouldn’t love to hear us turn that a into an o. Lasko.

But I’ve been reminding myself since the day I met this Bohemian Lover that he will never be mine. That the only way I’ll make it through this heart-opening is if I keep it to love in the Highest. So that would be Laska with a capital L.

There was only one word spoken between us on the day we met. I looked all around as he looked at me. “Beautiful!” I said.

Still gazing at me and smiling, he nodded. “Beautiful.”

The day before our chance encounter, I found myself perusing and collecting vintage photographs of women. Most seemed sourced from Eastern European countries. One picture in particular touched me deeply. A woman exuding utter beauty and peace, ethereal and magic, yet real. Perhaps she was my harbinger.

Spending time with the Bohemian Lover is an experience in fantastical beauty. We beam at one another and say, “Nice dream!” Watching stars, eating kale, letting evening breezes wash our skin. Sometimes I will look at him in awe. He sparks colors of gold and green. Sculpted arms, the warmest hands. He is some sort of greek statue, come to life and reaching out to me. Loving eyes, completely unafraid to look and truly see.

“Whatever you do, do it with love,” he says.

And he does.

And we, we will never be together.

As in, happily-ever-after. There is nothing conventional about this connection. I know the stars that crossed our paths will continue crossing.

Lasko – My Love, this means my love. This love that he evokes in me, already resides within my heart. It is my own true love I’m feeling when his thumb gently traces my cheek.

And even more than mine, the Love that touches me is greater than anything that can be possessed. It is Laska, that capital L Love that lives between our gazing.
Love, free-flowing, is the ever-present wellspring bubbling forth from our hearts – yours and mine – beating at our center in each living moment.

Some days we may be barely conscious of a dull pumping in our chest, that life-force pulsing us through our days. Sometimes we may hardly remember we are breathing.

And sometimes there wanders into our world a dreamy reminder of Love’s vital essence. Once in a while we may be gifted by a soul with which we can share the beautiful.

And in their presence, for however long or short is promised, that’s exactly how you feel.

The Kiss - Gustav Klimt

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