It is a Holy thing we undertake here,
the act of falling in love
so slowly, like a ceremony or a company merger
it is a dignified thing we do, full of weight (of weight but no worry, of dilligence but all of ease.)
Don't you remember the first business meeting we had, sitting across a polished Starbuck conference table with suppressed smiles? We are hereby called to order.
It is a quiet thing, a thing deliberate and bold and careful, it is devoid of worry because we konw exactly what we must do, and I confess, I know exactly what the end will be. He, that Other, will be glorified.
The anecdotes are the only thing to fill in, and all the rushing sweetness of future flirtation--these are the easy parts, the details that I don't yet know. They are for later, and I lose no more sleep over them than I do over your honor or sincerity:
There is work to do, now; the business of slowly-so-slowly learning love. and when the time comes, I assure you, even now--you will find me signing on the dotted line.