You were here today. You were actually here, face to face with me today. I could reach out & touch you, look at you, smile at you, laugh with/at you, yell at you, stare at you--you were here. Actually, really, completely in the flesh here.
From the moment I heard my dog barking at the window, to the moment I launched myself at you, right up until the moment I watched you drive away, down the road, my mind was absolutely racing with every possible, conceivable thought. And as I hugged you for the 439685769578363th time, I really, truely, finally realized something.
I'm okay. 99.9% absolutely okay. That 0.1% is the spark that is always, always, always gonna exist in my heart for you, the 0.1% that will continue holding out hope for the "spending the rest of my life with my first love" fairy-tale ending. But the other 99.9% of me is--absolutely okay with us and the way we are. You were here with me, and for that half an hour...it was as nothing had ever changed. We picked up right where we left off; the way best friends always do.
jrb, I will always and forever love you. But I swear on the lives of my cats that you apparently despise, even though you pet them, that I am absolutely and completely okay with whatever future you and I may or may not have. I will find someone new and I will fall in love again, and I will have a happy ending. Even if it isn't with you.
Because you and I have something that I wouldn't trade for all the stars in the sky.
We have each other; we have what we have.
And it's enough.