Before we begin, I would like to ask something of you.

Not belief or even wish.

Memory.

Somewhere in your life there has probably been one person who quietly rearranged the architecture of your inner world.

Perhaps you married them.

Perhaps you almost did.

Perhaps you met too early, before either of you knew who you were becoming.

Perhaps you met too late, after life had already made promises in other directions.

Perhaps they stayed.

Perhaps they left.

Perhaps they never really left at all.

Remember them?

Bring that person with you.

You do not need to tell anyone their name.

Neither will I.

Because this story has never really belonged to two people.

It belongs to everyone who has ever looked at another human being and thought, quietly,

"There you are."