Angela and I have loved each other, began falling every since the start of our friendship. However crazy it seemed, we quickly committed to each other, and have stayed close, best friends every since. We blend our energy together, make love, and open truthfully in all ways, about how we feel, what we think of the universe, and we believe is true.
We opened to the idea we could share this love with a Third, years ago, but we waited for that person to come, never finding her by looking. We let one friend very close, through our stories, without asking her to be the Third, just enjoying her companionship from far away. Her affection and attachment grew with ours, and one day she revealed, if we would welcome her, she may be able to visit. This blossomed into a promise to stay together, with hopes becoming more and more we might love one another without end, from all three of us.
We rise each day and go to bed each night, wrapped in the energy and security of each other, with dreams of our music, stories and art. We think of those things instead of fearing for money, and learned to think of our success as our togetherness, and the inspiration our life offers, and the love returned from others for what we give, and the inspiration in them, too, their love, hope, and creativity.
We gave all our powers in the arts to the young woman we loved, for her to have us with her, secure in us until the day she could keep her promise. We were very inspired. The love we loved to give seemed secure in her care, so long as she gave her attention and appreciation back. We sent drawings, hand-written letters, even flowers, which we got to see in pictures. We had such fun, all the good times that can be shared in such a way, and spoke of what makes real love work, and shared our days. Sharing: that's everything to me. The friendship made all else possible.
When her first arrival did not come, we were crushed! If she said she was coming still, we would suffer and keep faith. Then, without warning, the second time was lost, too, and we were told the day she was to arrive she’d stayed for a funeral in her family. It was very hard to try to love someone and miss them like we might miss each other, but okay, one more time, then, even if the reasons for the delay made less sense.
When she told us this time should be quicker, we were making it through a rough spot, transitioning from the job that had made Angela unhappy, to me working for her now, and still summoning our attention for the arts. It took a lot to keep believing in the three of us, and attention became less back to us, so we worried more.
When she began to seem to not care about time with us, we couldn’t understand. Then she wouldn’t answer about the time anymore, and stopped responding. Angela sadly continued falling out of love, and I tried to hold together as one what really needed three. We could not wrap ourselves in the love of her, day and night, without feeling a sickness and cold from her absence, not only physically, but in spirit. So we argued as never we had before, for my stubborn hope made her sad, as Love can always be replenished, but can never thrive with neglect. With sincerity, honesty, even friendship could be preserved, if our shared dream had wavered. She must not be certain of her choice, and how sad if something so real had been a game, for such companionship was sweet each day, and a future of all that love, grown from our undying love for each other, would be beautiful, shared.
I grew to realize we would have to wrap the two of us together in our love, which had always been true, and find a way back to energy for the arts, and leave the girl we hoped to love, whom we believed in, to her own choices---for only by choice, each day, can any love, much less a strange but beautiful one, be replenished.