aren’t you glad?
“Aren’t you glad,” she asked, and it was as simple as that. It was as easy as plugging a cord into a wall. As easy as tuning in a radio station. As lighting a match. As the birth of stars.
Instantaneously and delivered with unbridled delight: 1) “Holy what the fuck. Where’ve you been?” 2) “Do you know how much I fucking love you?” 3) “I want to talk to you FOREVER.” One. Two. Three.
All at once, I remembered. That life could be more. More beautiful. Brighter.
Without ceremony, I dropped a heavy stone I’d carried for twenty years.