First Monday in September
February 09, 2023
The first time we met, I felt nervous in a way I hadn't before.
You didn't seem nervous then, which made me feel it even more.
At first just another stranger, but perhaps that's the understatement of the year.
I had known you all of the 5 minutes but the consensus had been clear.
It would be an insult to call you a stranger, when you felt like something I knew so well.
Like remembering something from your childhood, that becomes your favourite story to tell.
Like asking a question that you already know the answer to, but I used to always fear that it would change.
Like putting all your skeptical puzzle pieces down, and trusting something bigger than you to arrange.
The first time we met, I knew that I was done for— how absolutely disgustingly cheesy to say.
A long conversation for hours and hours, and I still think about it to this very day.
Something I trusted immediately when I said I would never do that again.
And I don't know why it was so easy to introduce you to my entire self right there and then.
February 9, 2023.
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