Row.

The boat rose in the water as the wave washed against it. The boat sank. Always a little higher, then a little lower.

But still he continued to row.

The sun rose in the sky, far in the distance. It circled over him, flooding his senses with light and heat. And then it sank.

But still he continued to row.

He’d been out at sea for hours. Days. Months. Years. Minutes. Interminable. He had no idea how long it had been.

But still he continued to row.

He was surrounded by water — a blue dream-like ocean of nothingness, as far as the eye could see.

But still he continued to row.

There was nothing to go back to, and no destination he could see. It was as if he strained against a static backdrop of perpetual futility.

But still he continued to row.

The straight line of the horizon broke its seamless form. Almost imperceptibly, the distant future in front of him began to take shape.

And determinedly, he continued to row.

That First Kiss (And Everything After)

It started with that first kiss, and your slight smile afterward — oh so clever. You melted my heart with your kiss, our kiss — my first kiss ever. Something sacred happened there, even if only I knew it. It was such a pure and sweet an tender moment. Picture perfect, as they say. And in my dreams, I wanted to keep it that way.

I wanted to respect that moment — to honor all it meant to me. I didn’t want to waste that special place in my memory. So I made a pact with myself to always be true to what happen there to me, and to you. Regardless of whether we stayed or we left, I would treat this time of “us” so there would be nothing to regret. A lofty goal, I know, and maybe too ideal, but that first kiss and everything after — in my mind that’s what’s real.

And now, you’re kneeling here before me, with my heart in your hand (alongside that ring), and all I can think is that you too want to respect that first special moment with me.

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