I never dreamt we might be like this. It all started so innocently, so… mundanely. I met him on the subway in the middle of a particularly chilly December. We had a short chat, over weather or dogs or something else completely trivial, and ended up making a date for a cafe the next day (He suggested it; I thought it couldn't hurt).
If my recollection of our meeting was fuzzy at best, the rest of our relationship was a smear. None of it was— well, strike that. It used to be relevant. I used to cherish those moments so, so dearly. Frantically typing out the events to remember every insignificant detail of those days spent with him became my nightcap. He was so perfect, so over my head. Ah, I used to be so foolish.
He suggested becoming more intimate. I instantly agreed. Then, he showed me the mechanism. I was more hesitant about that.
It was a grand device, made of pale stone and gleaming metal. It looked large enough to hold two people, but only just. As we approached, I could see tiny figures and pillars carved into the construct. My love climbed into it.
He beckoned me with a finger.
I politely declined.
He asked me to get in.
Still I refused.
He told me I could not be with him if I didn't comply.
Our exchange went on for a long while (He never threatened me; I knew he wouldn't. He was too good for that), until after endless reassurance and promise, I agreed. Hoisting myself into the container, I asked if this would hurt. The man I loved simply laughed and flicked a switch that had been next to his hand.
A storm of rock and metal enveloped us. As the first slab made contact with me, the purpose of the thing became clear. Yes, it was technically a death trap; my physical body would not survive. But it wasn't malicious; rather, the destruction of my flesh allowed for my spirit to ascend through the gateway provided by the machine into the Upper Plane.
I slid into him. Or rather, I slid with him. Not physically, no. I meshed with his being, his essence, all that he is, was, and will be. And if he was handsome superficially, he was breath-taking in spirit. And now, having married him, so was I. He was no longer perfect or above me, but rather equal (For one can only love another who is of the same level). I knew him and he knew me as we were pushed out of our former prisons into the aether.
I felt the moment our bodies were crushed, yet experienced no pain or pressure. I could see my own eyes bursting out of their sockets as my skull was impacted by four blocks of pure white stone. I laughed as I watched our forms contort and break. I thought I had known beauty; I was a fool. The faces I once thought of as lovely were as ugly as the mounds of flesh that once held us.
We smiled as our thoughts mingled and hooked on one another. A romance does not begin to describe our combination. We did not love each other, we were not in love; no, we were love, and any iota of this I had felt while on the Lower Plane was non-existent in comparison to what I had become.
Every day we explore the aether, floating through the Upper Plane and watching the physical world. We dance with Joy and Sadness, we jest with Avarice and Curiosity. All the ideas that could ever exist, spread out over a universe, every one of them existing everywhere all at once. But all of those concepts, though content in their own regard, cannot have companionship; not like the one I have.
Eternity can only be understood by one (or two) with no concept of time or separation. And one day, perhaps, I can once again descend and find a new partner to join the voices and minds that echo within my heart. But until then, I will do my own task in watching the world from afar and spreading Love where it needs to be spread.