And then I met you, your face was like golden sunlight on the darkest of winter nights. I met your eyes, I met your smile, I met you. Many months later, I met your mother and your sisters and your father and your family. And somewhere between all of that, I met your heart. I met your soul. I met your lively spirit of which I will cherish for all of eternity. If forever was a day, I’d stay up the whole night. I met your flaws, I met your insecurities. I met your weaknesses, I met your ambitions, I met your goals, and I met your body. I met your dog, I met your friends, I met you – in the crowd amongst disdained faces, yours, I met. But then I met heartbreak, I met sadness, and I met pain. Never knowing the sadness and pain of love, for I knew sadness and pain all too well. And when you inflicted me with such love, it crushed my bones and bent my spine and ripped me apart when we weren’t together. Heartbreak, I met. But then I met you again, and you met me, a person in progress. I met your adult side, although no amount of years will ever take your child-like spirit away from you. You met my dark side, the side that no one dares to enter, for there is no guarantee that they will return; there was never a guarantee that I am to return. You met my cat, you met my likes, and you met my friends. You met my mother, you met my father, and you met my brothers. You met my family. You met my worst, and I’m not quite sure if you’ve determined what my best can be. You met my insecurities, boy, did you meet them. But, in some peculiar way, you met my heart, you met my soul, and you met my spirit. You met my sarcasm, you met my cynicism, and you met my depression. And in the midst of all those things, you’re still here…even though you’ve met me. It was lovely meeting you.