Soulmates. Past lives. Spirit animals. Words never before considered to describe a relationship with ice. Yet tonight as I stretch out on the mat to unwind the grind of steel edges over that slick of frozen glory, to loosen up the muscles that work purely for the ecstatic pleasure of flight, I feel that switch flip on. Moony, glowy, smiling-- I am clearly so madly in love.
I put on my skates and we become one. Her, the ice, and her, the vessel that is me, and we ride and glide in tandem like currents and winds and cosmic waves. She empowers me, teaches me strength and courage and dance-like-nobody's-watching. I carve our initials in c-cuts and swirls, tattoo her beautiful crystalline body with poetry in our own secret hieroglyphic language.
Our connection is older than me. Outside of time.
I dream of her nightly. Seek her out in distant cities and faraway countries.
My wings.
The love of my life.
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