Since we first met I have loved you with whatever I had to love you with. — Zelda to Scott, 1935
That is how I know it’s love. The moment when we first met, I knew instantly. It is not falling in love at first sight, no. No one does that. But instantly knowing that this person will be in my life forever, that at on some level, we belong together, someway somehow. As lovers, as friends, as family or something else. It’s so clear that this is what it is for. You just know it. You feel it in your soul.
These people appear out of nowhere, under the strangest coincidences and then find a way to stay in your life forever. They change their plans for you, they put you in their plans, they tell their mama about you. That’s love. It’s my favorite kind of love. I don’t know if it’s serendipity, fate or sheer blind luck, but it made me believe in something.
I’ve experienced that love 2 (maybe 3) times. It’s the kind of love that defines what love is. All kinds of love in the world, never the same love twice. But a definition of the specific kind of loves nonetheless. This kind of love, the selfless, ever-giving love. The kind of love where you want nothing but happiness for the other person, even if it means to remove yourself some day. The kind of love that changes the way you see the world. The kind of love where you do nothing, but be in love with every single passing moment. The kind of love that you’ll unconsciously return some day, when it’s 11am on a Sunday, it’s summer time and you’re sitting on the sofa, remember the good days.
How do I even get started on this feeling — the feeling that just know this person will be in my life. After we cycled in Hong Kong. When I walked down the stairs in Belgium. When we drank at the bar in Vietnam. Our eyes locked and we knew. We just did.
It’s perhaps too early to make this statement, but I never had that here, and I miss it. I miss the instant acknowledgement in our eyes. I miss the playfulness in our smiles. I miss the actions that speak louder than words.
Sometimes you meet someone, and it’s so clear so immediately that the two of you, on some level, belong together. As lovers, or as friends, or as family, or as something entirely different. You just work, whether you’re in love or creating things together or foxhole buddies or partners in crime. It’s so clear, right off the bat, that this is what you’re supposed to be doing, that this is what you’re for. You meet these people throughout your life, out of nowhere, under the strangest of circumstances, and they help you make a life. I don’t know if that makes me believe in coincidence, or fate, or sheer blind luck, but. It definitely makes me believe in something.
They say that nostalgia is a dirty liar. But some nights, I go back to my book of dirty lies. Not to change anything, just to feel a couple of things twice. When we first met. When we first met, indeed.