I had never really ever been with someone who I could look up to. All my serious relationships have been with men whom I inevitably led, who followed me. This may be because this was the dynamic in the earliest relationship I have ever witnessed - my parents'. Mom led, dad followed. I asked for you, that fine Saturday in IKEA. I summoned you from the ether, and you came, the day after, exactly as specified except for one single detail. I needed a man to follow, someone to devote myself to, to submit to. Someone I could respect. And then of course, there is the thing that complicates the scenario to ensure that you trigger the warrioress/saviour in me. It's the perfect recipe, really. So much so it could only have been engineered by the randomness of the cosmos.
The other day I found out your wife passed because of a flu - no doubt her body, weakened from the transplant, could not cope. You spoke about it with me for the first time the other day. Is it not another very strange incident that I got sick with what I thought was the flu (but turned out to be a viral infection) on the very day that we had decided to meet in person? I was literally burning with fever the first time we laid eyes on each other. This might explain why you insisted on seeing me every day, that week. It was as if the heavens gave you another chance. This time, you saved the one with the flu.
You passed every test, thus far. And I don't know why I keep putting you through them. A knight has to have a damsel to save I suppose. But you're slaying my dragons, one by one. The strength in that heart of yours, that beating heart of yours. Everyday I am in awe.