Wayfaring Traveler

twelve

"They laugh until laughing makes them kiss.
They kiss until kissing makes them laugh."
— Sarah Ruhl

t w e l v e

Closure was all I ever wanted, perhaps I had yet to realize it in my teenage years, however, the twenties reminded me that the past isn't worth dwelling on. As unconventional as my past was, I realized that I wouldn't change a thing about it because if I did I may not have met Francesca.

After my initial meeting with my father, Ansel Banks, I managed to see him two more times before the new year and then two more times before spring. One time I flew to Nevada and the next time he flew to Seattle, a routine established between the two of us. My father and I had begun to make up for all our lost time together, bonding quickly and learning about one another. Although it would take time, I hoped to someday call him 'dad.'

As time passed Francesca and I too progressed in our relationship, the two of us moving in together in the spring. Francesca's loft had been renovated and furnished by February and by March it became apparent that Francesca and I's relationship would be long-lasting. Francesca insisted on me moving in with her, knowing that I couldn't quite manage rent on my own. She said that it felt right to move in together and that she had never been more certain about a decision. It's not how long you are with someone that determines life decisions, it's how much you love someone.

The once empty loft above Travelers became our home, our personalities mixed in the decor and arrangement of every bit and bob.

The picture frames that lined the walls held photos of Francesca and me, bits of the map I had been carrying for four years, and acceptance letters.

Acceptance letters. Francesca and I had been accepted into the same college, Francesca started in the fall and I would start in the spring. A new beginning was available for the both of us and we were able to start it together.

We were building a future together, one that allowed both of us to do what would make us happy. A perfect companion is someone who allows for personal growth and someone who supports their loved one during times of adversity. Love extends past kisses.

It's an abstract concept, however, I began to believe in soulmates after I met Francesca. Although it makes me sounds like a hopeless romantic, I realized after knowing Francesca for a few weeks that she was, in fact, my soulmate.

Every day I loved her, every day I was happy to see her face.

She would come home from school exhausted, working and going to school simultaneously. The commute wasn't terrible but it still was emotionally draining, it doesn't take more than ten minutes of sitting in traffic to feel defeated.

It's painful to see the one you love in any state that doesn't have a positive connotation. Luckily, Francesca could always be cheered up by a cup of tea and a book. I would fix her the cup of tea the moment she stepped through the door and she would find comfortability in a lounge chair. We had created a routine, one that worked perfectly for our lifestyle.

"What do you want for our anniversary?" she asked one day.

Our first anniversary was coming up and she was curious to know if I wanted anything in particular. I would have asked her to surprise me but I wanted one thing.

"A dance," I answered.

She looked at me with a confused expression, one of her eyebrows raised at my answer. She held onto her cup of tea and simply stared at me. I certainly delivered an answer in which she wasn't expecting.

"A dance?"

I nodded. "All I want is one dance with you, one dance right here in the loft."

She took a sip of her tea and gave me a smile.

"If that's what you really truly want I won't deny you of it."

Our anniversary came around a few days later and she fulfilled my wish. She had exams that day and she had spent the previous night studying, when she came home she was absolutely exhausted. While Francesca was evidently exhausted she still managed to remember my request. She still managed to uphold her end of the deal.

Upon walking through the front door, Francesca laid her bags down. After giving me a quick kiss she made her way towards her wardrobe, pulling out a familiar white dress.

"Outfit change?" I questioned, sitting down on our bed next to the wardrobe.

"Yes, I want to look pretty, for you and for me," she replied, changing into her dress.

"You always look pretty to me."

I looked at her for a reaction just to see a small smile on her face. Once she had her dress on I zipped it up, helping her put on her shoes as well. The glass slippers fit.

We had reservations for our anniversary at a restaurant downtown, it was one of our favorite places to eat at. Our anniversary was a monumental occasion and the first of many.

Francesca stood up from the bed where she sat to put on her shoes and grabbed one of my hands, pulling me towards the living space of our loft. With her free hand, she turned on some music.

"We should dance before I get drunk on wine, I want to remember this," she stated, placing my arms around her.

We began to sway to the music, falling in time with the music and falling more in love.

It was a small gift in her eyes but to me, it meant the world. The dance reminded me of the first time we danced in the loft, however, the once empty loft had become a home. We were in the same place but the circumstances had changed.

"I don't think that I knew what love was until I met you," Francesca stated, continuing to sway with me to the music.

"And I didn't know what love was either," I replied, adding to my statement after kissing her on the forehead, "until I met you."

Francesca looked up at me with adoration and I returned the gaze, the song began to end.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too."

Dances are often thought of as temporary, however, our dance would last forever.

I would have never guessed that I would end up in Seattle, Washington. The weather in Seattle, Washington was anything but perfect and there were thousands of flaws that existed in the rainy town. In the end, none of the problems of the location mattered.

Seattle isn't perfect but it didn't matter.

Because home is wherever she is.