Ten Years*

and then we were us again, smoothly trading thoughts where noone else could hear us. wordlessly reading each other's paddle strokes and adjusting to keep us on track. following each other into the water, waiting until the other acclimates before going deeper. following each other into the intimacy of quiet, hands held, even though the rings were missing. because they are too precious, you say, and we might lose them. the risk is too much.

we are careful with our love, i guess. it is precious, it has always been. like when you used to call me princess, as a serious pet name, to reflect how special you felt i was. what's amazing to me (always was) is how you can be so irreverent about so many things and yet hold our love so gently, and so deeply.

we slept so well, even if the mosquitoes were droning outside the tent and the ground was closer to our bodies than usual. i kept having to readjust to the simplicity of just us, floating along, timeless and free.

ten years in and the magic is still right there waiting for us, anytime we care to look. you are magic, my love, my prince, and my closest family.

now that i've stopped trying to concoct elaborate plans for our milestones, they seem to be unfolding on their own, with perfect timing and tone.

*please don't count too carefully. nothing untoward ever happened, you see, but i'm afraid the overlap of transitions might make some uneasy.