I did not know that you had blond hair when you were a child.
I did not know that you had such strong personality as a child. Stories about your childhood were told to me.
I was there in your old room.
I have always thought I knew you well and the reasons which made me fall in love with you were solidly linked to the present, and to our past.
But when I was standing there in your home, my heart was whispering to me all the soundless words to the brightness of that Sunday midday. My love for you goes far beyond the reasons for which I had chosen to love you. It is now all over your home, back to your past, back to your history. The picture of this kid which was you, in front of my eyes. Everything seemed familiar.
Your room stored memories that I did not know but somehow I think I could guess all of them and reconstruct them again, in my mind.
Could that be possible that I have loved you already before having known you?
Standing in your home, I had that feeling. I have loved you before the sound of your voice could reach me.
On my way home, I shut my eyes and let the joy invade my body. I have loved you in no time, long before memories had time to become ours.
I have loved you out of time. My eyes were closed. I remember a tear slowly slipped on my cheek. Out of time joy.