At last.

It's been quite a long time, you know.
…I'm sure you do.

How long have you been hiding?
As long as I have?
Longer?

You told me you were scared,
and the silliest part was that…
was that…
you were scared of yourself.

I know.
Oh, God above, do I know.

But, oh!

I know!
You know!
We know!

O rapture!
Thou hast spilled forth blessed light
to illuminate perfection,
a spectacle of your greatest creations.

You.

I was scared, too, even after I met you,
but not of us, not of we.
I feared deception,
something I've come to know like my shadow,
or the back of my hand,
if you want to get into clichés.
I feared that even though you
said
we shared this, you
meant
something else.

I know better now.
I know that we stand on a level where others are spread so thin,
so far and wide,
that if we walked
and we talked
and we laughed
and we reminisced
for a day or a month or a year,
we would still be a couple
and our footprints would remain undisturbed
in the long-dried salt of tears.

And I know that you see this,
I know that you can sense it,
but I'm so glad that I found you.

In this desert of loneliness,
I'm so glad that I found you.

With all the ghosts I've passed,
all the intangible hopes that have teased me,
I'm so glad that I found you.

And you know?
Even before I realized that our feet stood on the same platform,
that you were not somewhere above me,
I knew you were special.
That you were different.
That you were an incredible person
who has been through so much,
so very much,
and come through outshining the sun
and lighting up my day.

And when I realized that I could look into your eyes,
which are sometimes blue
and sometimes green
but always true
and always keen,
I saw what fate had been saving.

I've sealed the steps that might let me ascend to normalcy.

I hope you don't mind, but this is where I belong.
And if you meant what you said,
which I truly believe,
then you do, too,
and all of us will stay here.

You and Brutus,
me and Molly.

Four creatures,
twelve legs,
and a lifetime of happiness.