You and I have something that holds us together. We are little more than one and little less than two. It’s us. And I’m not talking about the first person plural. I speak of a node, a link, a connection. And the worst thing is that we are not ourselves.

We cling to other stories, other infinitely tangled networks. And each of our nodes lands in a different place. Each of them tells a story that no one knows. A story that only belongs to me or you. Trying to untangle a knot of yours is asking you to give me the key to your house. Trying to ask you to erase a knot is asking you to break the thread of your life, with everything you’ve written in the world.

Honey, I’ve been thinking about our knots. How each of them feels like a threat to me when I want to tighten our bond. I know it’s selfish of me. My story isn’t Sunday wind either, it’s always been a big Monday storm. Maybe that’s why so many knots that moored me to safe harbors by waves without meaning or direction. However, I was never a good sailor. I never knew how to make good knots.

And then you appear. So, like that. I had already seen you in a nearby port, always waiting for someone to hit the beat and rhythm of the knot that would tie you to the other side of the ocean. Some traveled with you, made dinners with violins in your cabins. But none of them managed to distract you with the full moon on the deck, and you always realized how long the journey would be. And you always felt your company slacken. Then you went back to the pier. Never sad and resigned, but with a hopeful smile so beautiful that it enchanted anyone passing by.

Read Also: He is my best friend and my love, with whom I would go to the end of the world if I had to.

The problem is, getting your knot right was a matter of luck. By the way. of fate. And now I find myself in that situation. I see you, simple and strong next to me. And all your other knots threaten me, however loose or fast. I do not care. I really don’t see my other knots anymore, I don’t see my old story anymore. It’s not just the desire to tighten this bond, to bring you closer, to hug you until I lose all my breath. I want to take you to the other side of the ocean. It wants to take you on the entire trip and show you how wonderfully beautiful each phase of the moon can be.

It’s not vanity. There is no need to establish myself in a port. On the contrary. I want to tighten our knot to keep you moving. To make you stronger and simpler. To let you raise the sails and point in the direction you want to go. I just want you to take me along. And I promise that, like the good sailor I’ve become with you, I can turn our knot into knots.