For twenty years we were strangers,
ships passing in the night,
always nearby but never actually meeting.
A real life version of “Sleepless in Seattle.”
Born the same year, same town, same hospital.
Years later when we finally met,
I joked that I might have used the same crib,
and I recognized your scent.
Our families moved at the same time
to neighboring towns,
where we spent time at the same stores and beaches,
and yet we never met.
Our mothers bonded over bingo,
and as mothers are wont to do,
talked about their children,
especially the son and the daughter
who were both single and the same age.
Reluctantly, we became pen pals—
the reluctance being on my part, not yours.
Another romantic trope in play,
becoming friends through the mail,
until finally we met face to face.
My heart skipped a beat when you smiled.
We both felt that immediate connection—
this was right,
this was real,
this was love.
Something destined to be
from one lifetime to the next,
no matter what trials we faced.
And here we stand fifty years
after that first hello.
People love a good love story,
even more when it's true.

~Elise Skidmore ©2024

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