Seven months on

The best bathroom sign in Tacoma, WA, via my Instagram

Let me make this clear once and for all: I didn't come here with an agenda.

When I boarded that plane on Christmas Day, I was in love with a man I hadn't met yet. 

Or rather, I was in love with the idea of a man I hadn't met yet.

A man I hadn't even seen or heard yet. 

A man I didn't know but for the unbridled humanity he had shared with me online. 

And vice versa. 

Christmas Day was about two strangers meeting for the first time. 

That we should be standing in front of the airline counter hand in hand within a few minutes wasn't a given. 

That we should fall in love with each other within four days wasn't a given. It may have been quicker, but four days is the time it took to vocalize it. 

That we should naturally arrange ourselves into a cross-species family unit of three wasn't a given. What if the cat had hated me? 

That we should look at each other and realize we wanted to grow old together wasn't a given. 

That I should return to Seattle wasn't a given. There was no way of knowing how what started out as mutual curiosity and blossomed into a novel way of connecting – by focussing solely on hearts and minds and deliberately excluding appearances and other non-essential details – would translate into the real world, even though we both agree that our digital life is an intrinsic part of who we are rather than a separate entity. 

I could have been a man. 

He could have been a cad. 

We could have been an anecdote rather than a story.