You took my hand and there it was; I saw it with my own eyes. Higher than the satellites, your touch sparked our vision, sparked our bond. I watched the electricity flow from your end to mine. It was a tiny universe, about as wide as our faces and as long as my gaze was from yours. Time stood frozen for half a second. Through our connection, through our touch, through our gaze, through that half a second, I witnessed our lives intertwined and how beautiful it was going to be. You questioned me, "What’s wrong?” I responded, “Nothing has ever been more wrong since I met you, but that’s the thing. You are my wrong right choice. You are the energy I’ve touched before and in such wrong versions of you and me, it’s never been such a right choice. Touch my hand and gaze with me again.”
— Excerpt from a book I will write