There are moments when I look at the absolute weight and caliber of who he is, and it commands my total respect.
It is impossible not to admire him.
He lives life with this quiet, grounded mastery: building things with his own two hands, navigating the rivers and the mountains with such ease, training his dogs, and showing up for his community when people need help. He doesn’t just move through the world; he builds a life in it, piece by piece, with intention and strength. He has done so much, seen so much, and holds this effortless capability that I’ve always found so
deeply attractive.
That strength was magnetic. To be seen by him, to share that sharp, undeniable spark and the fierce alignment we had, it was electric. It was strong, real, and undeniable. I’m sitting here holding all these big, tender feelings while the silence stretches out between us, and I’d be lying if I said a part of me didn’t still wonder: What if? What if the timing was just wrong? What if the distance closes one day? What if, somewhere down the road, when the air clears and the pieces fall into place, we actually end up together?
The truth is, I really don't know.
It is hard to hold on to a hope like that, but it’s also hard to just turn off the light on something that felt so real to me. Maybe I don't have to figure out the final chapter today. Maybe I can just honor how much I admired him, appreciate the connection we shared, and leave the rest sitting gently in the unknown while I keep moving forward.
NM