At the end of last July, I couldn’t stand to be anywhere.  The phone was ringing off the hook.  There were insane text messages of love and hate and filth and I got in my car, and I drove until I had no cell phone signal.

     I sat down on a bench.  A beautiful blonde came out, and sat down next to me.  She peered over the top of her glasses, revealing the most gorgeous brown eyes I’ve ever seen.
     “Let me see yours,” she said softly.
     We stared at each other, silently, for what seemed an eternity.
     She took my hand, turned it over, traced it with her fingertips.  I watched, and traced the back of her hand with my own.  No words…

     My heart raced, fear and aniticipation and… something?  What was it?  I felt lightheaded, breathless, trembling.  It was different, different like we’d been so close, and just missed each other, a million times, and then finally, finally came together.  It felt to be the single most important event in my life.  The earth moved, life became more vivid.  Like God had looked down on me and smiled.

     And that was what began an amazing journey.

     She looked at me like I’d always needed to be looked at; dead in the eyes, and with her warm, gentle smile.  She touched me the way I’d always needed to be touched; gentle caresses that would send shivers down my spine.  Upset, she’d pull me close and tell me not to worry about it, that it’d all work out.
     And I’d do the same for her, holding her so close that I intimately know the salty-sweet taste of her tears, running my fingers through her hair and whispering that I would always be there, that everything was gonna be okay.

     And I will continue.

     I’ve never met anyone with a greater propensity for Love as my Wildcat.

     The one.

     My heart belongs to her.

     Our hearts belong together.

     That’s just the way it is.