part i. being in isolation even long before covid, i learned that if i wanted to hear anyone speak to me, it had to be my own shaky voice, in the otherwise deafening quiet. I would call it a soliloquy, but most of it was muttering, and the only audience i had were the plastic water bottles and mugs gathering dust in my room. being alone habitually can be peaceful at times, yes, but other times it feels like something heavy on my chest, like an empty, dull ache. sometimes i went so long without speaking aloud, i wondered if my voice had been swallowed whole inside of me. being entirely alone can do something to your sense of perception. it can turn the outside world into a hostile, or frightening place. a silence grew in my heart, and it seemed nearly impenetrable. where did i go? i didn’t know. part ii. and of course where would i go to escape the aloneness? tumblr dot com, of course. we talked here and there, and i wanted to know more about you, about your life. but we both kept our distance, only chatting here and there. i became intrigued with you, your art and how you see the world. i had to know more. we begin to build a casual, but somehow strangely personal friendship. i was glad, as upon finding your blog 3 or so years ago, i had always felt this curiosity and frankly, magnetic pull toward you. i became captivated. part iii. soon we were talking every day. if not to share parts of our day, then to laugh over something silly. i had never met you, but i knew there was an attachment growing. then i met you, and our friendship grew into love. you see me for me, and you hear me even when i don’t speak. i hope to have lots more lake visits, coffee breaks, car karaoke, kisses and inside jokes. thank you for being my moonstone and thank you for seeing the beauty in me when i am not able to. 💜💋 @ultraterrestrialstars
