Steven, Dear.

Love. It perhaps is the purest word a man possibly will ever mutter in his entire lifetime. It is something that would give one person the strength to hold on, and another the strength to let go, helping him to get through the difficult times not essentially with someone's assistance, but with someone's constant support. Something divine. Almost holy.

I think I experienced it. The last four days were like a delusionary dream. I never thought it would actually happen to me, the strangely ordinary old me. Nothing was making sense at all but it all seemed to fit right. As if I was living in a trance and had no control of what was happening around me, whatsoever. I was never more happy and carefree. All the stiffness, the tension, the stress was starting to vanish every time I heard that four lettered word. It started out, I remember, in a meeting, a proper networking meet and I was there, with my bunch of friends. The first time I met him, it was a different kind of an experience. The good kind of different. Our arguments on every diverse topic seemed to mismatch unlike our interests, which oddly and peculiarly matched. I never thought it would all make sense today. I never thought I would find my friend, my competitor, my teacher, my supporter, my beloved man in one single person. Not that I needed someone, I am quite self-sufficient in my own little ways, confident and independent, but it was good to want someone nonetheless. Someone for whom I wouldn't count the separation days for. Someone who would listen to me blabbering about random stupid stuff without complaining.

I was sitting in the roadside local cafe with Steven Curtis Greene last Tuesday with the thoughts of denying everything altogether and sipping the most favorite Latte. 

He kept on observing me, his glare trying to dig everything I was about to say from beneath my eyes, my unspoken words and the little random expressions I was giving. The thing about this stare was that it was the deepest stare anyone had ever given me and yet it was not uncomfortable at all, rather assuring, something about it made me feel safe. 

But I wasn’t here to surrender to his words and wishes, but rather tell him that I was resistant to any kind of love. I was afraid that I might let my parents down, they never would want me to be someone's someone and they had prevented any such attempt in the past. They were just too cautious where I was concerned, it wasn’t their fault. And I was afraid of how things would turn out, with my expectations and his hopes, and I didn't quite have the time to make any commitments. It took me three long sips of the drink to finally come out of my reverie, and I finally said, my words a calculated paraphrase of my thoughts, "I cannot".

And two hours later, I was sitting in Steve's car, my head on his shoulder, thoughts somewhere else, and hands just touching his arm, for I had finally complied with my heart, instead of my mind,  with a "yes". My plain ancient heart defying the good efficient brain, a work of art indeed. I got up, stretched my arms in the air and got ready to get out of the car and into the Tube station to go back home, when he finally stopped me with his hand on my arm, the firm hold of his hand that made it difficult for me to even move. That moment, with those continuous currents of hot blood flowing in my veins, with adrenaline engulfing my whole system, and emotions filling up all of me, he took me by a surprise and hugged me real hard and must've said 'I love you' about 50 times over making my whole body attentive of his breaths and his words. I closed my eyes, just feeling the rush of excitement and energy in every atom of my body and smelling the faint metallic smell from his neck. I still hadn't said 'I love you' because I wanted to say it at the right time, when I felt like I truly could give in all of me to this intelligently spectacular innocent boy. Maybe. 

And now it has been four days since and I still recall getting almost lightened up by his expressions, saying "You're mine. And I love you” and the way he was looking at me like I was the only damn thing that will ever matter to him and his eyes saying he meant it all. Yes, it was that special. 

But I understand that a passion that burns that ferociously isn't meant to last. 

Four days is all that it took to us giving up on hopes, and giving in to our own circumstances. Maybe things are so meant to be. Maybe first love teaches you like nothing else. 

How it is so pure and untainted and it afflicts the innocent you and how you’ve never actually faced heartaches before it. How the times would never be the same again, and how you’ve changed from the first time you met your affinity.

 How I will always remember the times I spent with him, however small. The times during the four days when I almost cried and he held me and made sure I was okay. I will still remember the spontaneous gush of energy his hugs gave me, and how special they made me feel, and how they made every inch of me aware of all the sensations that were passing from him to me and how my stomach almost left my body flying when he surprisingly and unexpectedly lifted me up and held me even closer until all my tensions just vanished away. 

He would probably never know how he made me feel, but one thing for sure is, it was a lifetime worth of love that I experienced in just the four days we were together. It has made me stronger, and given me the strength to summon up my courage to achieve bigger and better things for myself. And it has made me believe in miracles and I would always choose to be trapped in those memories of love and life and strength. And maybe we are just like the sky and the earth, living together, existing together but still unable to truly meet each other. And I wish to be with him again, but I can never be, I would never be allowed to be. 

We would just be like the syllables and the mouth that they come out from, joined together for the shortest period of time but that moment of impact, that moment of chaos finally defining each other's existence before they both separate only to never meet again. 

~Katherine Melanie Embers