To a brilliant woman in Toronto that I never met…

This is not about one particular woman, rather to that woman who I never had the opportunity to meet, for who fate conspired to keep us apart. As my head starts to wonder more about the details of my impending move to Paris, my heart is increasingly filled with a feeling that I can only approximate as a sort of sadness intertwined with loneliness; generally, I feel like I have failed. In my eight years in Toronto I have failed to meet you, that woman of my dreams. I'm not sure why I feel this way, but I really thought that you were here, somewhere, at some time, in Toronto. I really wish there was some reason to tie myself back to Toronto, some very strong emotional bond to tether me, to keep me flying strong, like a kite. It's not about the city itself, just the potential it had, if I had met you. Perhaps I did come across you, but didn't realise it. Perhaps I shyly looked away, discounting that skipped heartbeat upon gazing upon you as an irrational and very superficial crush; I have always discounted external female beauty, despite my obvious male nature to notice it. It's because I know that you are more than just beautiful, you are radiant, magnetic, angelic, mischievous, intriguing, captivating, strong... Yes, you are wonderful. But I never found you. I missed my chance. Some may say that it's great that I'm free as a bird, but I never wanted to fly alone, I wanted to fly in a pack, a flock of just two.