This post is number one hundred. This post is written from the bottom of a knot I feel in my chest. This knot thinks of me from time to time and insistently bumps my insides to remind me of its presence.
I can feel this knot growing every time I look into one particular person’s eyes.
We whisper to each other all sorts of things, and I know that it is each other’s knots speaking. They are
It is amazing how these knots have brought with them a new measure of time. Before they were there, a year was a thousand years, and now fifty years is not long enough. A lifetime (our lifetime) does not seem long enough.
Any words we could possibly utter are not deep enough, and we know this because we’ve used them all.
They can not fully express what we feel so we stare at each other and we let our knotted insides talk. They know. We know.
This is bigger than me and bigger than us. It is overwhelming, it feels bigger than life.
I know when we’re gone we’ll be there, we’ll find each other again.
He started being the little island I could escape to whenever I needed to, now he’s fully becoming the ground I stand on.
This is the first time I don’t feel I have to look further, like I have to keep searching. I don’t feel scared that tomorrow it might not be what I want.
This has to be what it feels like. This has to be it.
(This post best read while listening to:
Higher Love by Depeche Mode)