You saw fit to share our origin tale. Now I sit, bathed in blue glow with fingers to keys, to tell my side of the story.
Your digital cry was too distinct; too familiar. In your words I felt my own heart, its beat of loneliness echoed in yours. From your digital form I caught the faint stench of fear and downfall from grace. And recognized that scent as my own.
The dance began, our steps falling so easily into rhythm it felt as if we had always shared the dance floor.
We kept making rules, and promptly breaking them. We set boundaries then picked them up and moved them at will because even in our fragile, broken state, we both knew this was too rare and beautiful to squander.
Building up history, peeling away layers. Facing fears, insecurities, accomplishments, and celebrations together. We became twin arches supporting the bridge of emotion rapidly growing between us.
Until one of those arches gave way.
Until it vanished, leaving its twin collapsing under the weight.
And then the unthinkable happened. I heard a different, yet familiar, digital cry. And once again I answered. How could I not? Not a day had passed since the loss of my twin arch when I didn’t miss you with every part of my soul.
And so the dance began anew. Tentative, delicate, deliberate. We stepped gently at first, then more brisk; our tender confidence coaxing more strident rhythms from our feet.
Until you kissed me.
Until the incorrigible conflagration between us consumed us both.
We watered the words with our own salty fluids, nurturing them with skillful allusions until they grew so round and full we could not ignore them. Like bright daffodils raising their faces to the spring sun, they would not be denied any longer.
I. Love. You.
In those first few months together we found freedom in each other. Today, we find new freedoms, new moments, perfect, profound subplots in each other. Our journey has only just started.
I don’t know what lies unwritten in the amazing, unfathomable story of us. I don’t know how many chapters we can author together or what roles we play in the tale.
But I know this: each word, paragraph, and chapter with you is a gift. A gift I am eternally and profoundly grateful for.