Andi, Part III

Before there was a "you and I", there was one thing that bonded us together.

Longing.

We were both stuck in a situation that we could no longer cope with—perhaps, stuck is not an appropriate word to express what we experienced back in the day because we consented to the situation we were in. It was more in a sense that we had to settle down with the choice that we took years ago. Though, reflecting back, had the circumstances we were in was different, we would not seek solace in each other; we wouldn't need a momentary pause, a soft gap, between the inevitability of our chosen realities. But, that was then. Now?

Now, we have each other.

Everything is more vivid—colours are more pronounced, new songs discovered everyday, sleeping is no longer necessary, and feelings are louder. Oh wow, I have never thought that feelings could be this intense. Missing someone has never felt like you could explode, even after having him in my arms. Maybe this is what they say about sharing a life with someone, he embodies your soul too. We both unearth feelings that were previously undiscovered. We familiarise each others' patterns, including hidden shapes of our birthmarks. Everything is bliss. Normalcy seems foreign now, especially sleeping alone. Contours of our bodies have somewhat adjusted to accommodate one another that we always look forward to falling asleep next to each other, even if we never wanted sleep to stealing away moments of us together.

In you I found companionship—a home to the bones that long to dance to the anthem of every music that has ever existed, a house to the largest collections of my thoughts, and a galaxy of infinite patience and understanding. Few things that were previously absent in my life. A different kind of intimacy and familiarity that I never knew could exist between two people.

But, apparently, it exists. And it's glorious.