Weeble (clockworksaint) wrote,


I'm not good at talking about this, because the words never seem to be quite right; they never seem to say enough. I only hope that walking amid the half-built spires and fragile pillars, you might imagine the shapes they vainly reach to form.

I am happy, and deeply so. I cannot describe how she does it, a faraway voice. She instills not just a surface happiness, but something underneath that does not wash away in the rain. Something that sits there patiently, to reassure me when I'm sad and to spring forth when I am happy.

For a while it seemed like I might discover I beheld nothing but a distant mirror, so much does she remind me of myself. It feels like finding something so familiar that you are sure you must know it, but having no memory of it at all. And yet she has a poetry to her words that leaves me stopped, stunned. All my scribbles and quips cannot begin to form an idea and hold it up as she does. The more I feel the less words I find I have to express it, and so it goes by unsaid. I have to try my best and trust she understands.

I want to thank you all for being so supportive. I wasn't expecting this at all. In some ways she feels hardly far at all, and in others it is such an awfully long distance. But not one of you has scoffed at the whole affair. You've not tried to tell me what I feel or made me feel a fool. I want to say thank you for trusting my judgement and being happy for me. I hope that I am not making you sick just yet.
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