Thank you for waiting.
As a kid, I could not wait to meet you. I would see you in movie theaters where couples nestled into each other’s arms as soon as the lights went dim or in school hallways where my classmates dove head first into your crystal clear waters. You were mesmerizing, but always just out of grasp. That only made my desire to meet you stronger. When it finally happened, I was in awe. You shone so brightly when I held you in my hands, I couldn’t bring myself to look away. In my eagerness to finally meet you, I burned myself and another like a child playing carelessly with an open flame. For a long time afterwards, I thought I had blown my chance at knowing you, and so I sulked and mourned and longed for lost love.
I realized that, eventually, all wounds heal and that one day, I would get another shot at knowing you.
I’ve had to put off our next encounter for some time now. I decided a couple of years back that in a short time, I would move across the world and build my life in the place I’ve always felt closest to you, Love. As a consequence, I resigned myself to believe that you and I would not cross paths again for some time, but I never stopped looking for you.
I always thought I saw hints of you in every date I went on, every phone number exchanged, and every chance conversation, hoping I might be lucky enough to see you again. They were all wonderfully intelligent, kind, beautiful souls who, no doubt deserved to meet you and know you much more than I. It’s hard though, to try with another to find you knowing how rare it would be that, given the circumstances, our paths would cross. I’m afraid that while you may be able to move mountains, moving people into an entirely new life in an entirely new country still seems to be out of the question.
Nevertheless, I still wrote you songs and poems and letters, all to remind me that one day, we would find each other again.
Sure enough, we did, just not how I expected.
When I announced my move, you sent me an outpouring of support and encouragement from a community of friends who surprised me with their kindness and sincerity. They told me they were proud of me. They told me they were excited for me. Most meaningfully, they told me they would miss me and that they loved me.
I’m not sure why you surprised me. I found you in a rather obvious place—among a group of people who care deeply for me, and for whom I care deeply. You were there in movie theaters where we howled at the absurdity of Marvel’s post-credit scenes and around Shabbat tables where we carved out our own traditions. In marching band practices where we worked to perfect our shows and during weekend escapades where we never managed to accomplish much of anything at all. At a strange little summer camp in New Hampshire where days felt like weeks, months felt like days, and a friendship bracelet from a nine-year-old felt like a lifelong promise.
And so, Love, thank you for waiting for me to realize that you come in many forms and that you are never more than a phone call away.
To my friends who have made my time here in Las Vegas, in Hartford, in New Hampshire, and in Boston so special, thank you. I love you and I know I’ll see you soon.