We were young, queer, and trying to live up to the level of perfection that we had been assigned. A whispered conversation during a late night research project turned into a secret romance and the breaking of our lesbian cherries. It was all so sweet, like an after school special written by an optimist.
I don’t regret the short and somewhat confusing time we had together. It filled a void that we were both trying to escape facing head on. You were trying to understand how your new found dreams were going to become reality and I was attempting to find hope in the darkest period of my life. We held on tight and thought we would conquer the world together. I thought we would be the sweethearts that survived.
Instead your dreams came to a literally halting crash and my darkest period reached a new depth of hell. You found God and I found Satan. We were ripped apart and only recently reconnected in while trying to find peace with the two elements that ripped us apart.
You should know, to this day, I still dream of growing old with you. I still wonder what could have been if we had more time. I still love you, all twenty-five feet.