As if I believed in Destiny, as if it was destined,

I had the extreme fortune to meet Ash LaRose a few years ago.

We have only met three times.
These are from the last visit.

{{{ photo removed for personal reasons }}}

I write this today, this evening, because she has made an extremely beautiful post on her own blog: here.
You should stop reading this and read hers now.

Looking at it an hour ago, my breath caught in a hidden place within my body, a place I barely know.
I'd like to say it's because she's one of the most tender people I've met, one of the most giving and kind.
One of the most romantic and talented too, though I don't know if she'll believe either of those about herself.

I am refusing the impulse to share fifty photos of her I've made with you right now on this page.
Many are photos I have never let anyone see. Not anyone. Not ever. Not once.

They look too much like how she is, how she looks at me, how I see her.
More than I want to share them, I don't want to share them.

Tonight I am so aware of how much I love her, how good of friends we have become, how I've trusted her to a limit I've trusted maybe only one other person in my life. How I hope I'm lucky enough for our relationship to be only at the very beginning of its life, how I want to

We are related within some other system than Time, you and I, Bashfulleigh.
And, like time, may it continue to constantly surprise us with its expanse.