A day too late. And Rome is really far the frick away.
L is for the way you look at me.
When I told you about the letters, you looked at me like you had had an epiphany. No one has ever made me feel precious, in the purest sense of the word. I barely knew you, and you barely knew me, but you looked at me like you had just realized you had known me for your whole life.
O is for the only one I see.
It’s been almost a year since Rome, I haven’t seen you since, and I only technically know three things about you. I still can’t get you out of my head.
V is very very extraordinary.
There are certain moments in life where you know it’s a significant moment, an extraordinary slice of time that you know you’ll never get back. Meeting you was a piece of time that was extraordinary. I’ve never made a connection to another person in the amount of time we talked. We talked about simple things, things people take for granted but thats what made it special.
E is even more than anyone that you adore.
Thank you.
One night in Rome, I met a young man on vacation with his family. He was heading to bed and noticed the couple I was talking to were wearing BYU gear. He stopped, sat down, and began talking with us. After a while, the conversation turned into just a conversation between him and I. The couple left, and we continued talking. I only know his first name, his religion, the state he lives in, and where he spent time doing mission work. But, somehow I know him better than I know most people. As we said goodbye we simply looked each other in the eye. It was an honest look, and we knew we would probably never see each other again. We lived in different states, he was a bit older than me, and our religions would never allow anything other than friendship. As he walked away, I wanted to call out to him and ask him for his address. I didn’t. If by some miracle we ever meet again, I’ll be sure to ask.
