inarticulate sparkle.

53 days ago, [redacted] was walking around Florence, Italy, trying to get my attention.

I know this because he said it casually, like it was not the most insane sentence anyone has ever handed me. Which is especially rude, because 53 days ago, I was also trying to get his attention.

I don’t know his version yet. I don’t know what he saw, what he thought, or what made him decide to reach toward me from the other side of the ocean. I don’t know if he was standing under some beautiful old building, pretending to be normal while silently plotting his next move.

I only know my version.

And in my version, I thought I was the only one being ridiculous.

I thought it was just me clicking that stupid little heart button, knowing it would be our little secret. Knowing that [redacted] would see my little heart and have the option to reply.

And then he actually chose to.

Maybe someday I’ll ask him for his version. What he was thinking. Whether he was replying to be polite, or because he had the same flutter in his stomach that I did when I saw him weeks before in the airport.

Maybe I’ll find out what Florence looked like from his side of the story.

For now, I just know this: while I was sitting here trying to be noticed, he was walking around Italy trying to notice me back.

And I’m sorry, but that is exactly the kind of evidence I will be submitting to the universe.

I think I just discovered that I am the drama.

I am a woman with a nervous system built by unpaid interns, trying to process secure love for the first time, who immediately files a missing person’s report on emotional consistency.

I thought [redacted] being quiet because his life was heavy was about me.

It never was.

I realize now that it was my brain being scared, because what my Manifested Man and I have matters to me. When something finally matters in a good way, my survival mode brain treats it like a threat, because I don’t always know the difference between “I love this” and “I could lose this.”

I spent all day thinking [redacted] realized he didn’t want to be with me.

Turns out, he wants me as much as I want him.