Dinner For Two

I thought I knew what it felt like to see enchantment that night. Enchanted; most people recognize the feeling, but that evening I actually glimpsed it, saw a vision of its magical wings envelope my world for a fraction of time. The world, with its normalcy, was behind me, suspended, and I was immortal in enchantment.
I could swear your face was glowing with excitement; perhaps though, it was only the result of a hundred candles burning in the darkness around where we sat. We sat, alone, at a table isolated at the edge of the waterfront. You had moved the table there during the day, amidst the noise and commotion of the marina, while the boats and seedos incessantly backed into the water, only to emerge again hours later; in and out, in and out, much like the waves that gently lapped against the dock now, completing the calm stillness of that night. At the time, I thought you had to be the most creative person I had ever met. Perhaps, I was just too easily impressed.
You brought take-out, explaining shyly how you were just horrible at cooking, that you would have if you could, but this was the best you could do. I laughed and told you I would not want it any other way, and you smiled and poured two glasses of crimson wine into delicate glasses where it sparkled with the stars.
This is what dinner for two should be, I remembered thinking. All alone, with the glittering magic of the night, the moon, the stars, the candles, silvery, silent, consumed.
It’s funny how you remember certain details after a fact, when they seemed so insignificant at the time; mere background decors, barely noticeable. Eventually they become emblems, symbols that you wish you had seen, sort of overlooked signs.
I remember we both noticed the lighthouse in the distance, glaring its golden light in a single streak across the dark water miles away. It stayed on almost the whole evening, watching us, until it abruptly, unexpectedly, flickered twice and went out. I never imagined you and I could fade as suddenly as that light.

Heaven A or B?

Complete oblivion. A world in which the past is not only thoroughly forgotten, it is known not to have ever existed. A place and time where the utopian state one finds self in is the only reality ever known, and ever to be known. Utter forgetfulness of past sorrow, pain, joy and various other emotions. Absolute failure to recall towards the life now known. This is a true Heaven.
Heaven is perfect. So then, a perfect world would have no need for a basis of comparison for that perfection. If a past life with imperfections could be remembered in Heaven, then Heaven, as it is known, could not be flawless. It would have blemishes, and even though existing there would seem perfect, reality there would be clouded with thoughts and memories of what life, imperfect life, used to be.
Perfection requires no basis for comparison. It is its own essence; a shining emblem of purity, and immaculately individual. To capture everything perfection, on its own, offers, one would need merely to be exposed to it alone. Reality where everything is perfect, and has always been known to be perfect, is the existence humans are continuously desiring, whether this is recognized or not.
On another level, knowing that, once Heaven is reached, complete oblivion will also be reached, an unbounded hope for this present reality is provided. When grief and sorrow floods a life, full reassurance that the pain will only be momentary occurs. In fact, after this life is over it will not even be remembered. Such a hope leaves individuals with peace when negative circumstances out of, or within, control occur. On the other hand, since joy, to finite minds, is justifiably thought to be closer to perfection than grief, moments of genuine joy in life provide a means for anticipation of something greater. Hope, once again, of the ecstasy of Heaven will bring even more contentment to life. If joy here, in this imperfect life, is pleasurable, how much more so will it be in a perfect world?
It is apparent that in order for Heaven to be truly perfect, everything experienced before arriving there must be eliminated from the mind. The memory is a powerful tool, strong enough to cause emotions in a person long after the circumstance in which the memory was formed in has passed. The past, the present, the future; all three make up the components of reality. The circumstances of the past have a way of haunting the present and the future. An existence of true perfection can only be constructed when no other existence is known. Complete oblivion.

Some Justification

"Perfection is not attainable, but if we chase perfection we can catch excellence."
- Vince Lombardi

And That Is Why

"Our nature lies in movement...complete calm is death."
-Pascal