On the morning of Ostara you wake alone, there's still a warmth to her side of the bed so she hasn't been gone from your side for very long. You find her outside meditating in the grass, her hair is still messily braided and the sun shines on her in such a way it makes her look like the goddess Sunna.
And you think about how far you've come, how your love for her has grown and changed and grown some more like the seasons.
I love her.
I love her.
I love her.
You chant it like a benediction and you go to her, drawn to her like you always have been. And you sit in front of her, mirroring her position. She smiles because she sensed you the moment you stood in the doorway. She offers her hands, palms up, to you and you place your palms down in hers.
Ah, it's like you're puzzle pieces fitting together just where you're meant to be. She sings a seed and you join her, you sync with each other, your voices are meant to harmonize. Her work loves yours, it greets you and wraps you up in a hug and your work welcomes her with open arms.
You smile as you start to see flowers popping up all around you and it makes you smile even harder at what your love can create. The air sparkles around you like stardust and that floral scent surrounds you.
Your seeds fade and she opens her eyes and looks at you with so much reverence and love it makes your heart skip a beat. You'll never get tired of the way those blue eyes make you tremble with excitement.
Good morning, my love.
She'll say.
You never get tired of her calling you my love or darling or any term of endearment really. But most of all when she calls you - my Tally. It makes your heart beat faster.
Because you are hers.
And she is yours.
They say there's power in a name. And for so long you were just cadet and general then Craven and Alder and now you're just Tally and Sarah. There's something so intimate about when you use each other's names. It's magic in itself.
And you'll say.
Good morning, my Sarah.
You climb into her lap and kiss her gently and languidly. Because you can do that now, there's no wars or ranks to stop you. You press your forehead to hers and then you're cheek to cheek and you're looking at what you've created and it's beautiful.
Blessed Spring, my love.
She'll say.
Blessed Spring, my Sarah.
You'll say.
And your love for each other will continue to grow, just like these flowers every year.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I do.
I love you too.
