Walk With Me

And I will write and write and write until ...

It was some months past when a man had a surprise visit.  It was in a form of a comment from someone he doesn't recognize. Some exchanges were made with proper introductions, and in a bit; those exchanges became rather interesting and enchanting. 

The other person admitted a persona as monstrous, that of a beast, which manifested itself in stories of past events.  That undesirable trait of which was carried throughout, from previous friendships and failed relationships.  

While the other man was considered dense, knowing nothing of the intricacies of what he was attending into.  Formalities were shaken by one long letter and in an instant, perhaps one night of recollection and a day of turbulent emotions, gave way to plunging in, diving and swimming with things that were new to him.  It was like walking through the unknown with bouts of anxiety, fear, and anxiousness.

From exchanging notes of worth to one particular phone call, another first was made and that was to break the barrier of anonymity.  The voices, unknown to each other, that paved the way to a higher level of intimacy. That one night of hello's and how are you's became nightly calls of greetings, revelations, reflections, dialogues and narratives. They were not of the simple kind; they were intense, heavily laden with emotions and drama, with frequent laughter and tears, of stepping into uncertainties, realities and fantasies. 

It became addictive, in a good sense, of knowing that someone is and will be with the man.  One night, he mentioned that dying still permeates in his thoughts even after the change.  He was being selfish, unknowingly hurting the other person with his insensitivities. So when the other half bursted into tears, a realization came into his being and that of being lucky, of being loved, of being thought of, of being affectionately invested, and being taken cared of.  The other person is right, as to why this man have to think of leaving when someone so dear is here to stay with him. 

His was a life of change and of new beginnings brought about by the presence of the other person.  He should be grateful, appreciative and most indebted to that change in him done by one. So in this story of fervent love, I am fortunate to have him.