I always imagined our future would exist in phone calls.
I thought we’d bustle along in the time zones of our own atmospheres and occasionally let our own universe be pierced with the old voice of home.
I imagined home would be our place to reunite our memories. Where we would let our minds fall into the happy times of being together in the past and then share the times we’ve had apart.
I imagined we’d exist in the realm of temporary. Short term visits and stories, all things exciting and new, until we fade back to our respective mundanes.
We’d forget to tell the dumb little stories. Like the time I realized Americano’s indicated I was not ready for adult life, or the time you melted ice cream for your cereal because you ran out of milk. We would always forget the little tales.
In biology I learned that cells are the building blocks of life, but I can’t help but feel like stories are. I imagined our lives would maybe share a brick or two, but we would mostly be built apart.
And now my fear of the empty silence in long distance has melted! We can now share the little tales of our daily lives. We can share stories under the same coffeehouse, the same library, the same sky. We are still dancing along our individual paths, but we will always know the other is only a small walk away. I will tell you a story about a friend and you will laugh with familiarity. We will not only share many more bricks in the building blocks of each other, but we will do so under the freedom of finding ourselves. We will no longer be guarded under the roof of chores and obligations. we will be free! And the best part is,
we will be free together.