It’s moments before Midnight on December 31st, 1999. Mankind is blue in the face, hoping it has prepared for Y2K. The world might end, you know. I’m at a party in the Elmwood Village of the city of Buffalo, New York. We don’t know what to expect though nobody seems all that worried.
Midnight arrives.
Now it’s 12:01 am. Bullet dodged.
A little while later you walk in with a friend. I find you in the kitchen. We talk for a bit. I walk you out. I wait until we get to your car to ask for your email address. You’re unphased by the nerdiness of the request and oblige. This is where it all begins. Standing on the curb in the first couple hours of the year 2000.
Now it’s today. 16 years later.
Neither of us knew what we were doing. We had no clue what might find us once we found each other. We still don’t.
Not knowing makes loving you exciting.
Together we’re learning a certain future isn’t.
Through it all, the years and the tears, we’ve managed to dodge our own volley of bullets.
It helps to have someone covering your blind spots.
Which helps make it possible to enjoy the cheers.
So let’s do what we can when we know what that is. Let’s choose openness when it turns out we don’t.
That way nothing can keep us apart.
Not even the end of the world.
