So many things running through the head, all vying for space and equal front-of-the-brain time.
Fifteen years of wondering, knowing you were in the background, hoping you were ok, thinking you too far away to be a possibility... gives a girl time to think.
Tears trickle out of this intense happy, this self-beratement, a newly-hatched hope born of one comatose yet sentient all these years, I found myself unaware of whether this whisper of possibility is incubating or if it gave up the ghost long ago and is simply a lingering husk. When Schrödinger's Box was finally breached, did I see the same wonderful thing you did? (I believe so.) To me, this was an incubation, keeping that small fluttering wisp of potential in a time-nicked stasis, slowly evolving where the days bled out. Self-beratement because I'm fully aware of how seductively quick The Fall can come. After all this time of the waters building behind the levy, why fully open them? Berate. The reservoir has grown by a steady trickle these long years, never requiring maintenance beyond a hinge-oiling "hello" sent along the fibre optics to stave off rust... a force such as this demands a mile for each inch given, and I'm proving to be as useful as chicken wire against it. Berate. Don't let it happen that quickly. Berate. You're a stronger person than that, why such a wimp all of the sudden? Berate. You're weak, you'll get hurt, stay safe on land, deny yourself to stay whole. Counterpoint: you and I discussed our dryadic tendencies, we two are creatures of water. Why fight it?
This type of miserable joy has never been visited on me before, so I have nothing to compare it to. A summer's day, perhaps? Apt, with the weather being how it has, lately: over 100 degrees and rather face-melting, yet filled to overflowing with the energy and light emanating from you. Sure, going from a water analogy to heat analogy means we'll end up as a vapour analogy, but we'll leave that metaphor to another time.
After a few hours writing this and talking with you, enough mental pressure has been vented, and the thought processes have established close-enough to routine patterns. We now return you to your regularly scheduled bubbly giddiness.