"I Am Always Remembering..."

That Sunday night after I returned home, the beloved one sent a text a message saying, "I love you, too!" and upon reading it, my heart leapt in my chest and I felt as if I were floating across the night sky.  As I declared my love for him earlier that night, I had asked him not to respond, not just yet, but simply to think about what I was saying to him. I asked him to understand that it was not something that I was declaring with recklessness, but that it was the most important statement of truth I'd ever made in my entire life.  As I lay sleeplessly in bed, he followed up with another text shortly after the first, in which he said, "Sleep well, Dear Heart. We will talk tomorrow." This simple message seemed to lift me from my bed to the moon and the stars. I was his "Dear Heart!"  I replied, "Thank you, Dearest. Sleep well." I slept hardly at all, but my rest that night was wondrous, as over and over, so many happy thoughts and dreams flooded my mind as I lay there contemplating the arrival of love's dream.

As I did in those days, I rose from my bed at 5 a.m. and I went for a 3 mile run in the frosty darkness of that autumn morning.  Along my way, with every deep breath I took, a new thought of the happiness that I believed lay ahead for he and I filled my mind. I remember realizing that I was smiling broadly as my feet fell left and right on the pavement. At the intersection of Oakman Blvd and Dexter Avenue, as I crossed in front of a car waiting at the light, the driver and I made eye contact, and he gave his horn a little toot, as he smiled and gave me a "thumbs up." I thought to myself, "He sees that I am in love." As I made my final turns towards home, all I could think of was the beloved one, of seeing him, of talking with him, of being with him, of loving him.

When I did arrive back home, I sat on the stoop to let myself cool off. And as I watched the steamy perspiration rise from my skin in the cold autumn air, I remember thinking to myself, "This love I feel, is it a dream, is it real?" And as I sat there, I pondered the course of my life that had brought me to that moment in time. Finally, I reminded myself that it was not a dream, but that love had finally come.  Then I rose and went inside, making the first thing I did being to check my phone for a text from him. And as I had hoped and expected, there was a message from the beloved one saying he'd call me at 7 a.m. and that he hoped I'd had a good run. Yes, he already knew my routines and this was one of his. He liked to send text messages, sometimes as many as 10 or 12 in a day. I had become so enamoured of them that merely the sound of the alert, like Pavlov's dog, was enough to make my heart race and fill me with joy. 

In the early days of our romance, the text messages from the beloved one were simple, things like, "Good Morning, Christopher." "Have a good day at work." and the like. But over time, they grew longer and more emphatically romantic, "I'm looking forward to talking with you tonight." "You are special to me, Christopher.""I've been thinking of you all day." And so that morning, knowing things had changed in a miraculous way the night before, I replied to his text with, "I'll be waiting for your call, Dearest."  I quickly showered and then I climbed back into bed, and I laid there with the phone beside me, watching and waiting. It seemed an eternity, but when he did call, it was an awkward conversation at first, it began with him saying, "Good Morning, Dear Heart" and my reply of, "Good Morning, Dearest" this simple exchange was followed by a long silence of perhaps 15 or 20 seconds and then the beloved one said to me with his own voice for the first time, "I love you, Christopher." He then asked me to come spend the day with him as we were both off work.  I replied that I'd be there shortly and I ended the call with, "I love you, Stephen."

Quickly and nervously, I got dressed and while looking in the mirror at myself, I recall thinking that I had never seen myself look happier or more contented. I drove to the beautiful mansion he lived in, and I parked on the street in front. Walking up to the front door of the imposing edifice, I felt like I was floating on air. The beloved one came to the door in a robe and asked me to park inside the gates on the circular drive in the rear. As I pulled my car up next to the fountain in the driveway, the beloved one appeared in the doorway. When I got to the door, he took my hand and drew me into the beautiful and spacious kitchen. He closed the large door and as the early light of dawn streamed into the windows, he took both my hands in his and leaned in to kiss me. It was a gentle and yet incredibly passionate kiss, the emotions of which I would experience only once more in life, upon another arrival years later. 

Still holding my hand, he led me through the enormous house and up the lovely staircase, past padded walls covered in silk to his rooms in the east wing of the mansion. As he closed the door behind us, I took my jacket off and he slowly undid the buttons of my shirt one by one slipping it from my shoulders effortlessly.  He caressed my arms and we kissed again with a passion and affection that I had never been able to imagine or believe could exist. Then without fear or reproach, I undressed and he disrobed and we beheld one another in all our human vulnerability for the first time and we laid and loved in each others arms for hours on end... even until dusk.

I am always remembering... and my greatest fear is that I may not live long enough to forget.