It’s been a year since we first met face to face. We hugged as if we had known each other forever, and it always felt like that. The night was electric, and you felt like coming home.
You became my best friend and lover. We would talk about anything, and not once there was rejection or finger pointing, only acceptance and empathy. Neither of us owned anything, all we could offer each other was ourselves, which made it pure and authentic.
When we were out, I was always you’re girlfriend or your wife, not just a friend, even though we both knew different. You tried to stay, but language barriers and other situations that arose made you return to your country.
Since you left we talked on the phone and texted everyday, these last few months it has been sporadic, not constant. I’ve tried to detach myself, which is why I never initiate communication, but when I least expect it you’re there, reminding me it was real and that the distance between us is a huge gap.
That summer I learned something very valuable: that love is about appreciating that other soul and its beauty, without trying to cage it and possess it, love is freedom.