I don’t know how you feel about the ancient love languages, and I don’t know that you care where our words come from. I do know you haven’t read a book in over a year, but you still surprise sometimes with your vocabulary. I also know that you’re scared of words like leaving, cheating, withdrawn, and alone. You should know that I’m scared of those words, too.
Our road together has been a winding one. We slowly worked our way up a mountain, earning each other’s trust around every turn and at every steep cliff. The view near the top was breathtaking. But I should’ve known what would come next. We hit our peak, but in order to keep moving forward, we’d be going downhill for a while. You moved faster than I did, so while I was still holding onto the beautiful view we’d had, you were already rolling to a stop at rock bottom. It took me a few days to catch up, but now I’m here too. We’re at a low point, but we’re together. We’re still hand in hand, sweat on our brows, shaken but not broken, and we’re together.
It’s time to start climbing again. Tabula rasa. Like I said, I don’t know if you give two shits about Latin roots and old language, but I do. It sounds pretty, and seems less deceiving than so many present-day expressions. Tabula rasa. A blank slate is leaps and bounds better than shattered one. We will conquer what lies ahead of us and have the story to tell for ages to come. We have to keep moving forward, keep living the highs and the lows. Tabula rasa. Let’s climb.