To this day, the following piece is one of my favorites that I have ever written, but I have long hesitated to share.  Somehow it seemed too personal and private a thing, to display my affection for the amazing creature that is my best friend.  But due to recent events and even more recent revelations of the constancy of true friends–even with horrid amounts of time apart–I feel I must.  This was written two years ago, and is my small tribute to one of the most beautiful souls I have ever had the pleasure of coming in contact with. Across the Ocean, as it is called, is my attempt to introduce you to something inexplicable.  Forgive my fumbling.  Across the ocean is a world of love, and I want to share it.

Love to my darling best friend, Bex.

Transcendental is a word I am entirely too familiar with as a literature enthusiast who is trying to get through her undergraduate degree in English–especially since one of my professors is a self-proclaimed Christian Transcendentalist.  I constantly hear about the movement in classes and read about it in assignments.  As much as I enjoy literature, this is not a literary or religious movement I enjoy at all.  To be entirely honest, my high school American literature teacher engendered an antipathy in me for the transcendental movement.  So, as familiar as I am with the word, I loathe to use it.

But lately, I find I need to.

I’m finding increasingly in my life I need to use this word about love, of all things.  To me, it seems to be an odd context to use the word in; I see love in very concrete, realistic terms.  But no more–I can’t afford to.  You see, recently I came in to steady contact with someone I respect enormously.  I’ve come to love this person across the ocean dearly, and all of a sudden the lines are getting blurred.  Where is the line between deep platonic love and something more?  Is there even one?  I’m beginning to suspect that lasting love, truly lasting love, is entirely devoid of passion or romance, but is “merely” a deep platonic bond–a meeting of personalities and minds and that sexual attraction is generated by the two minds that are already so connected.

I know, you’re thinking something along the lines of, “How utterly unromantic.”  My reply is: “Yes, isn’t it wonderful?”  I don’t believe in romantic love, I never have.  I believe that if the world tried, we could turn love into something logical and clinical.  Lust is uncontrollable and ‘romantic’, love makes sense in my world.

Or, at least, it did.  On some level it still does, I always know why I love someone, but I don’t understand the limits or the lines anymore.  You see, my friend across the ocean is female as well.  I have never been remotely gay or even vaguely bi–out of lack of attraction more than any personal repugnance for the lifestyle.  However, I love her more deeply than I do most of my male friends and can see myself spending a lifetime with her built into it.  Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be looking for in a romantic partner?  And, believing as I do about love and the non-romanticness of it, I could very well be looking at a person I might be able to create a life with.

This is not a confession of sexuality, or changes in it, but rather a proposal of the transcendental nature of love.  Across the ocean is a woman who constantly amazes me, who I respect and love dearly, and the miracle is she loves me back.  It has nothing to do with gender or sexuality and everything to do with a perfect meeting of minds and personalities.  This is not to say that we or it is perfect.  Perfect love, in reality, comes nowhere near perfection.  Rather, it is an equal friendship, both of us giving and taking love from each other and loving every moment.  She is everything I want, and hope, to be.  For the first time in my life, I want to be transcendental.  Without that mindset, I don’t think this love could exist inside normal boundaries and strictures.  The lines are dangerously blurred.

That is a danger I am more than willing to accept.  With everything comes a price, and if I cannot pay the mere price of definition, I am unworthy of the love I feel.  Though an ocean and daily life divides us at the moment, our love runs strong.  There is nothing in it that indicates failure.  If it ends up that my life ends with this friend as my only close relationship, I won’t be unhappy.  In fact, I would be gloriously happy–because my friend across the ocean and I enjoy a love that is truly unique.  No one can touch it, or take it from us.  It is as close as anything I’ve experienced to what I imagine perfected love to be.

It might even change my mind about the word transcendental.