One day, when we meet, I hope you will be yourself, maybe a little clumsy, goofy even.
You won’t need some suave pick up line. Your hello will harness my attention.
When we meet, I hope you’ll sit down on my sand. I’ll look like the ocean to you and you to me. I could stare at you, your tides, currents and crests forever. Your face will hold my interest for a lifetime; I’ll never bore. Your expressions change with every ebb of thought yet you remain; it will comfort me.
I’ve heard your voice before, maybe in a dream or in my waking hours, like the ocean to a sea shell. I’ve known your echo, I just didn’t know it was you, until you spoke.
When we meet, I hope it will be in passing—I’ll whiz by you on my heart freckled cruiser and maybe you’ll be on your bike, too. You’ll turn around and catch up to me even though you were supposed to be going the other direction; late for a meeting but now the only appointment you’re late for is our knowing one another. I’ll stop because you will have kind eyes, I can see them under the brim your hat or through your glasses.
I’ll know I can trust you.
Maybe we’ll meet at a coffee shop. I’ll have my headphones in listening to Bon Iver on repeat as I write. I wrinkle my brow when I write, a smile of concentration. You’ll take it as an invitation to interrupt me. Please do. I’m doing what I love, there’s no better time to meet you. Just sit down next to me and start talking about whatever is on your mind right then.
Maybe we’ll meet at the grocery store while I’m trying to decide which bag of broccoli to buy, or I’ll be reaching into the frozen bin to pick out my favorite strawberry coconut milk ice cream and you’ll be reaching for the chocolate flavor. Our arms will collide and we will have no choice but to apologize for that, for the past and for the future.
Maybe we’ll meet on a trip or at the beach or at the gas station. Maybe I’ll meet you through a friend or at a party, although I don’t go to parties, so probably not there. We won’t meet on a dating site because I refuse to register, but maybe we already know each other through the ether of technology, I don’t know.
When we meet, I hope it’s at a time when I can see clearly and my heart is ready. It will make sense to me and it will make sense to you, too, like a simple math equation. We’re the answer, even though we’ve gotten it wrong many times before, because of hair color or age or some other immature reason. We want the wrong answer to be right even though we know it never will be.
When we meet, I hope we are willing to answer correctly because you are my answer and I am yours.
I haven’t been ready to meet you nor you ready to meet me, but when it’s time we will throw away any expectations. We won’t be held prisoner by our insecurity any longer—the fear of being known. It’s easier being unknown, isn’t it?
People think they know us, but they don’t. We are complicated in the simplest way; we don’t want for anything but love and that makes us a puzzle no one has been able to solve and we’ve preferred it that way. Sometimes hurting is easier than being understood and loved for it all; you understand.
When we meet, I hope you will allow me to know you and I allow you to know me, although when we meet, I hope we will feel like we already know each other. We won’t have to explain ourselves because we’ll get it, the way we act, the things we do, the things we don’t do.
When we meet, I hope we will always sit side by side when we eat, or work on our computers, or sit and watch our children play—the two-legged ones and the four legged ones.
When the waitress comes, one of us will place the drink order for both of us. Intimacy is in the beverage, to know what you drink is to know your details. When we meet, I hope to tell you all of mine and to know all of yours.
When we meet, I hope we will take a walk or bike ride every night because we can, because you are there and I am there and both of us have waited too many years to finally walk or ride side by side.
When we meet, I hope we walk to nowhere, or a loop back to our home or we go to the park and lie in the grass. Maybe we ruminate on a topic we were discussing before or we’ll just be there, quiet and content. My fingers tracing your palm, up your arm breaking into your strands, pulling you closer to me. That’s our conversation.
When we meet, I hope we have lots of those conversations.
When we meet, I hope we can be friends first so we can see our hearts without blinding ourselves with romance. I’ve done this too many times now, mistaking others for you out of desperation.
I want sober love now, not drunk love, that’s just lust; it’s exciting, but fleeting. Our love will be boring like a blossom to a tree or the sunrise to the sky; an everyday miracle God lives within and I know it because when I see it, I’m consumed by its brilliance and stillness. Our love will be boring like that.
When we meet, I hope you will kiss me with your history first. Tell me your story, all of it. Then, make love to me with your dreams, your fears and your secrets. Plant them inside me until they grow into a confidence only you and I shade one another with: a connection that can’t be uprooted, because I will know you almost as well as I know myself.
Then when it’s time, cradle my face in your hands and grab me with your lips. Don’t let go. Let’s do that for a while. When we do make love for the first time, I hope we can say I love you to one another.
I’ve never done that with anyone, waiting until love makes me cum first; I want my first time to be with you. I dreamt it one night and I wrote about it hoping it would become reality one day but today, it’s still unknowable to me.
When we meet, I hope we adventure. I hope to see the world with you and on lazy days explore our backyard or just sit in it with a book in one hand and a cocktail in the other. When we meet, I hope we have weekly dinners and invite everyone we love. I hope we have that house, the epicenter of fun.
When we meet, I hope we laugh a lot because we find humor in the same things. When we meet, I hope we never feel the threat, you know that threat? Of being abandoned. When we meet, I hope you stay, I trust you will.
When we meet, I hope we write together. We allow our talents to intertwine. When we meet, I hope we will write letters to one another, so when we are old or one of us dies our voices will be peppered in every drawer around the house and whenever you need to hear me, or I need to hear you, we can read each other back to life and my ocean surges through your ears once again.
When we meet, I hope we never take for granted the opportunity to listen to each other, really listen even to the stuff that doesn’t really matter, because we know it does. We’ve each waited far too long to share the insignificant with the person who is most significant—You. Me. Us.
Since I was young, I’ve felt like I came into the world missing you; my confidant, my lover. I came into the world remembering you existed and not a day has gone by that I haven’t ached for your return.
I think we were separated at the train station or at war or at sea. I carried the sorrow until now, but now that sorrow has turned to excitement, our reunion is near.
When we meet, I hope to live this life with you and lose you again and then again in the next life, because my mourning will be out of loss of something I so deeply desired to find—you.
I’ve tried to see you in others, but you weren’t there. With every break up I’ve felt as though I’ve lost you all over again, but I think I’m closer to you now than ever before. I know you are right there, but it’s not time yet and that’s ok. I’m patient.
In the meantime, until we meet, I will enjoy my life. I have a beautiful life and I know you do too. When we meet, I hope we can blend our lives together like the oceans do without a seam.
When we meet, I hope you will say hi even if it is unlike you to talk with a stranger. I hope you do, so you will see I am no stranger.
You will recognize me if you look into my eyes. I will throw away my shyness for you and I will look into you too.
We are the opposite of what either of us expected, but when we meet we won’t be able to look away any longer or deny the answer.
When we meet, I hope it feels like coming home, kicking off our shoes, lighting a fire and snuggling on the couch—an unknowable feeling to us until it happens, a love we can’t understand until that moment.
Until we meet, I hope you will keep building your life and I will keep building mine and we will keep kindling our loneliness because it will light the way to one another.
Until that day when we meet, I hope you know you are not alone my love. I am right here.