AVIDFLEUR
SAN FRANCISCO SERIES 2
Some loves are simply about being present for the duration of what's real, about choosing someone with full knowledge of the cost, about walking toward the edge because the view along the way is worth the falling.
I walked toward it.
She was worth every step.
And maybe that's what makes it what it is.
Not tragic.
That word is too easy, too dramatic, too borrowed from stories that haven't earned it.
Just true.
Just real.
Just the specific weight of two people who loved each other within the limits of their circumstances, who tried within the architecture of almosts they'd built around themselves, who were - from the very beginning, from the first haiku pressed into her hands at a café table in San Francisco - always going to be almost.
Never quite ours.
In every universe, I find you first.
Even saying goodbye.