Some days are harder than others. There are times when I barely notice that you’re not around. Some days my life can seem so busy that I almost feel complete. I have a job that despite my shortcomings, I have managed to excel at. I have my writing; I run a website, and I wrote a book. It’s a love story. I think that you would like it. I have my family and friends too. I’m trying to be a better friend, brother and son, yet I know that I don’t always tell them that I love them as much as I should.

But there are also times when I reach for your hand, only to grasp at air. There are days like today when I’m surrounded by the people that I love, and they’re all married, partnered, or engaged. Some have families; or are expecting. And I’m standing there alone, wondering when I’ll meet you. Or if I ever will.

I used to think that we had met. I found a girl who was so beautiful that I knew I was in love from the first time that I saw her. She was smart too. She taught me about flowers, about having an open mind, and how wonderful it is to feel content. I tried so hard to make her love me; and even harder to make her stay. But she left. And she broke my heart. The final lesson that she ever taught me was that true love doesn’t just happen. It takes hard work, and sacrifice. She taught me that just because you love someone, it doesn’t mean that they know, that they’ll love you back, or that you’ll get the happy ending you have always longed for.

I wish that I at least knew your name. That way when I lay awake at night and picture our life together I could call you something other than Lacuna. It’s not even a real name. It’s just a word that I found in a book. But I chose it because it means a blank space; or a missing part. I’m twenty eight years old and I don’t have a woman to love, or to hold. There’s a blank space in my life that I wish I could fill; a missing part to the puzzle that is me.

I promise that when we meet I’ll do everything that I can to sweep you off your feet. I’ll spend every waking moment trying to take your breath away. 

I want to be your husband; and for you to be my wife. It sounds crazy because I don’t even know what you look like, but thinking about the day that I ask you to marry me brings a smile to my face. That doesn’t mean I want to be hasty and ask you as soon as we meet. I want us to take our time. I’ll ask you out on a date, and try and hold your hand. You’ll look at me as if I’m insane, and my heart will skip a beat as our fingers interlock. At the end of the evening I’ll drop you home and walk you to the front door, placing my hands on your hips as we kiss goodnight. It probably sounds silly to you. I know that people don’t do that kind of thing anymore. But there’s no need to rush something that is meant to last forever.


I promise to take care of you too. I want to be there for you during the tough times as much as I want to share our moments of joy. When you’re sick I’ll tuck you in at night and wrap the blankets around your body before dimming the lights. I’ll make you soup when your throat hurts; or rub your stomach when you turn ill.  If you need to talk I’ll listen with great patience. And I’ll buy you flowers on your birthday, when you get a promotion, or just because I can.

When we have children, I’ll be the best damn father you have ever seen. I’ll change nappies, and teach them how to count, or to read and write. We’ll laugh and cry as they say their first words, and take their first steps. I’ll make sure that they grow up in a house filled with so much love that it radiates from their smile.

If we have a little girl I’ll learn how to tie pig-tails and play with dolls.  If we have a boy I’ll teach him to ride a bike and that real men treat women with respect. I’ll be at the front row of their sports carnivals, their spelling-bees, and graduations. You will too. We’ll be hand in hand, just like we were when I took your hand on our first date. We’ll be older by then; but just as in love as we have ever been.

Eventually we’ll grow old and retire. I’ll have to give away the job that I managed to excel at; I don’t know where you work, but I’m sure that you’ll be missed. We’ll travel the world, our faces cracking into a series of wrinkles as we smile gleefully at one another. When our hips give out and we can’t travel anymore we’ll find a little cottage to live in where we can form bizarre habits, like eating dinner while the sun is still up, and drinking so many cups of lukewarm tea that we spend most our nights dashing to the bathroom.

I know that one day I will find you. My parents always told me that good things come to those who wait. I just never thought that I would be twenty-eight and still searching for the woman that I grow old with. As a child, twenty-eight had seemed so old. I thought that I would have figured my life out by now. I wish I didn’t have to hurt as bad as I have in the past. I wish that I hadn’t had to lose the girl that I thought was you, and that I didn’t have to write a letter to someone that I’m still waiting to meet.

I don’t know where you are right now. Or if you’ll ever read this, but I want you to know that one day you are going to be my wife. And that I am going to love you, you are going to love me, and we are going to be happy. I promise to sweep you off your feet so that we can create a life so wonderful that your heart never aches again. When that day comes, I won’t need to call you Lacuna anymore. You won’t be a blank space, or a missing piece in my life. You’ll be my best friend; and I’ll be yours. We’ll be in love with one another, until the day that we die.

Author: Chris Nicholas

Chris Nicholas is an author from Brisbane, Australia. He has published two novels, and is currently working on his third.

150 thoughts on “Lacuna”

  1. Dear Chris,
    I’ve been following your writing for a while now and it honestly fills me with such joy to see how far you’ve come since ‘roses’. I don’t suppose you ever imagined you would be here, writing this with a heart open to hope. I urge you to believe in this dream because it’s yours and the belief you have now will lead you to her in ways you’ve never imagined. When she walks into your life you’ll recognise her; you’ll just know. So take her out on that date. The rest will be one history.
    Just make sure you remember to teach your little girl to ride a bike too.
    With great love,

  2. I am just now coming across your entries and wow. Just wow, I have no words for how your writing makes me feel. I commented on your last post, saying how your writing fills a hole in my heart. And this one definitely did just that.

  3. Do not take your dreams to far. Do not expect eternal happynes from partener’s love. It is very difficult to find the “tru love” the “real one”. But life can still be beautiful with out it.

  4. That`s the plan. I am 37, and still searching and waiting. Semmoista se elämä välillä on. 🙂 Here is the waiting list and the cue. Wanna have have a name, and a day, and a signature, do you like carrots and so on and on. You write a lot. Not only a pot and dot. I think it is quite easy to like and also love, in some role allways. But dont you people there go to dangerous places. Lets to the right and needed things

  5. It’s a strange thing when someone you don’t know writes something that could have come from you, timing it so perfectly that it coincides with how you’ve been feeling a lot lately. Thanks for letting me
    know I’m not the only one!

    P.S. It’s hard not to rush something that will last forever when it’s not even bothering to show up and knock on your door!

  6. When I was 28 years old, I had a little confrontation with God over my non-existent love life. Picture me shaking my fist at the heavens. The memory of what went through my heart is still vivid.

    “Damn it, God, I get it. This is never going to happen for me. Life alone. Cool. Since that’s the way it’s going to be, take away this horrible longing. It’s such a drag. I know that you are never going to drop a man on my doorstep, and that’s the only way this is going to work.”

    At the time, I had been totally blind for two years–my personal “kick in the teeth”–and, well, I didn’t get out much.

    But the Holy One has a sense of humor. Somehow, after I was a few months into a graduate degree, a 6 foot tall international student from Austria was dropped into my life.

    He was a younger man by four years, so at first I took a big-sisterly interest. He’d spot me on campus and say, “Hello.” We’d chat. I began to notice that he always did this sitting outside on a particular bench, a deep theological tome in one hand, and a glass of whisky in the other. (Yes. I asked.) I’d say, “You need to stop drinking so much and start chasing women.”

    He did … shy fellow that he was. We’ve been married 26 years and have a 25-year-old Chris of our own.

    But I could not have met him at any other time. When I was 14, my family was still living in … Australia. When I was 19 and 20, he was 15 and 16 and living in Austria. When I was 24 and 25, I was going blind and grieving.

    The waiting sucks. I can still touch the emotions of that long ago longing. It hurts. And it’s a pain wrapped up in not-yet and not-knowing.

    But I trust that she will come .

    Your beautiful piece of writing reminded me of so much. Thank you for being generous with your soul.

    I am a blogging newby and working with a screen reader. Hope this posts okay … and isn’t too long. – Charlotte

  7. Hoi!

    I went to some door. One time for one moment only. I kept the distance, because I knew

    Some other door I did not go. When they warned me. I listened and followed. But all they do not know, yet. Some day we are able to get it

    One door I did not found yet. No one told me. I didnot ask either. Maybe one day some one asks. Would be nice to be :]

  8. Incredibly beautiful ❤ spoke to my heart. I feel so many of these same sentiments. I am even 28. I could only hope to have someone write so passionately for me.

  9. Chris, this is lovely. I’m pretty sure thinking this deep can’t be healthy, since that is something I do myself and I rarely have healthy mental habits, but it is reassuring that there are men like this out there. Maybe one day I will be lucky to meet one that would look feel about me like you feel about your girl. Good luck with everything, I am happy you exist.

  10. Maybe it’s hormones or timing (I have met someone who is really something, and although early, I’m terrified) but I found myself crying through much of your beautiful post Chris. It really struck a deep chord. I say never stop believing or hoping. The journey to her may be long, might even be through cycles of heartbreak. She may be wearing a disguise, or others may be wearing her veils. All I know is that today I met a 70 year old woman who met her soulmate late in life, and although they only had 11 years together …. she knew her life was fulfilled. Take care!

  11. This is heart-wrenchingly beautiful. As a woman, the above is what I’d want in a man (should I find him someday). The best part about this is the way it feels. It is as if you are speaking to me. I am sure every woman feels the same. I wish you luck in your endeavors for I know the pain of longing much the same as you.

    Blessed Be

  12. Great piece, Chris. You write beautifully, and there’s a lightness to your words that makes me want to write even more! And thanks for liking my post, I will definitely keep reading you.
    Good luck with everything!

  13. Aw one of the cutest things i read. I’m sure you will find that person. And she’d be one lucky woman to have a man like you on her side!!

  14. I don’t know if it is a way to distract from the reality of a breakup; but I’ve been told that sometimes, people who walk out of our lives are making room for those who should be in our lives. I believe your wife will follow those vibes leading to your heart.

  15. Wooow.. I m sure your wife gonna be really lucky. You are quite romantic and a person with a heart filled with thirst to love that special person. I really hope from bottom of my heart that you will find your Lacuna soon and give her everything you promised.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: