You were my butterfly effect. You came into my life unassumingly. You came swiftly, with a quiet confidence that stood in stark contrast to the bravado that usually attracts me. Maybe that’s why, at first, I didn’t notice you.
Soon, though, the ripples of our interactions would culminate in waves of longing. I’d find myself thinking of you, find myself seeking your adoration. Your quiet presence in my life would begin to reverberate deeply into my heart. You became a melody I couldn’t quite get out of my head, that I didn’t quite want out of my head.
And soon those waves of longing would grow. They’d grow and grow and grow. Friendship would evolve into romance, and that romance would become a tsunami. That romance would come so fast, so swift, so beautiful, and so strong. At first, I would marvel at its inspiring grace and power. I never knew I could feel love so deeply. Frozen in awe, I could cherish it forever.
Tsunamis, though, are destructive forces. They topple dreams and demolish foundations. Their arrival will leave us awestruck, but their aftermath leaves us shocked. Their aftermath leaves us believing life will never be the same. Their aftermath leaves us wondering if we will ever rebuild.
And so we start to work. As we put the pieces of our old world back together, new shapes start to emerge. We grieve the loss caused by a force that entered our life unexpectedly and left just as instantly. And as we rebuild, we vow to never forget. We vow to forgive life’s trespasses against us.
From innocence came destruction, but in that destruction was a period of renewal I never knew I needed. For in my rebuilding, for in my forgiveness, I found a quiet strength inside myself I never knew I had. I found the quiet strength I so admired in you. And from that quiet strength, I knew I would evolve and grow and flourish. And, that is what made our love so beautiful. So beautiful I’ve never been able to truly grieve it; so beautiful I’ve never truly been able to let it go.
Your presence still echoes in my heart. You were my butterfly effect.