Roads not taken #5...

When I was a child, my great aunts and my grandmother loved figure skating. As such, they’d gather up all the cousins once or twice a year, pile us into the car, and bring us to see one of the touring shows or another. It started off with Disney on Ice, and, by the time it became things like the Icecapades and the Olympic Skating Tours, I was the only one of the cousins who still had any interest. I couldn’t have told you why, but there was something that always drew me to the sport, to the art. When I would watch the skaters glide across the ice, something would pull at my heart, a longing I had no words to describe.

After my grandma passed, when I was around 21, my great aunts invited me to go along with them to a touring show. I hadn’t been in years, so I leapt at the chance. When we walked into the stadium, the scent of the ice brought me back to being young and the wonder of it all. Taking our seats as the lights dimmed and the music began, that sense returned, a wistful longing for something I couldn’t quite place. Then she came out onto the ice.

As Eva Cassidy began to sing the first aching notes of Fields of Gold, I knew. I knew with utter certainty what had drawn me there year after year. The longing was for her. I felt tears falling silently down my cheeks as she twirled and danced across the ice. I felt the same longing in my heart in hers as she did so, connecting us somehow. I bought a rose from a passing vendor and got up, walking carefully down the stairs to stand at the edge of the balcony above the ice. As the song came to a close, I waited for her to move closer, then threw it at her feet. She slowed, smiling, and picked it up. Then she turned her head and, for the first time, our eyes met.

I thought she’d drop the rose. My breath hitched in my chest as her hand went to her own. Almost without hesitation, she skated to the edge first of the rink, then across it, moving quickly up the stairs, still in her skates, and towards me. I didn’t know what to do as the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen started to run, truly run, in my direction, so I opened my arms and…caught her. I was still crying, and I could feel that she was, as well, as she clung tightly to me. The whole audience watched us, but there was no world there save for the two of us.

Eventually, she pulled back and smiled that lovely smile, stood up on her toes as I leaned down, and we kissed. The crowd cheered, but I was lost in her, where I would remain for the rest of my days. I didn’t know how I knew it, but I did. She was the one for me, my beloved, my future. I leaned very close to her and whispered…”Will you marry me?” And she nodded, quickly, three times, and we kissed again. I knew nothing of her, nor she of me, beyond the utter certainty that Fate had been working towards this very moment for years.

That was how I met you, my sweet girl. That was the start of our life together, long and beautiful. One of many, many versions. There is no world where we do not end up together, and I am so deeply grateful for that. I love you, with all my heart and soul, now and always.