SD:H The Blanket Fort

We clamber into her room, falling laughing to the floor. In a short while we have our storm shelter built from a blanket roof and supporting bedposts, a deskside with a book, and a pile of pillows, each acting as a pillar. Inside we sit like children, bright eyed and mischievous, like we've gotten away with something. Thunder crashes outside, now more like a periodic afterthought, a soundtrack to our tiny room conference.

"Have you checked out my new blog yet?" Her eyes widen innocently "there's a new one?" "Yeah! Depending on your timeline it's either songoflove piecesofeight or just song of love, I think possibly titled ode to love." She gives me a tiny mouth smirk, as much of a non-answer as one can provide to such a question, and I roll my eyes playfully with an "ugh!".

"Not everyone realizes this, but I thought I might include this note as a shortcut." She nods intently. "So, many of the posts, even the ones filled with rage, fit together like a giant puzzle. It's like if you were creating something in a video game for Fighting Dragons, but the materials were anywhere from dozens to hundreds of these poems and stories instead of wood and metal bars. The thing is, they can only be properly put together in dreams, their very nature all but prohibits a method of careful conscious study to reach the same end. Then only with conscious experience can one really finish the work, putting what they've made to the test and fine tuning the result." "I actually knew that." She replies matter of factly, apparently I was not without company throughout this adventure after all.

"Ah, but see, I also have a theory." "Yeah!?" She nods more excitedly this time. "I started really writing just after the time I met you properly. I had written before that but I had no real catalyst, in my opinion, to begin until then, there was nothing in particular I cared to craft subconsciously." She nods in agreement. "Well, it was not until years later that I realized how to craft something for myself in dreams with my words, but even then I knew I had been doing it to a degree. What if I set out from the beginning with this aim in mind, and all the pieces of the first blog that I can't access are still in use in some way, like unknown artifacts? What if the absence of the conscious knowledge of their construction or use is actually critical to their function? Furthermore, what if this had only worked properly for me because I touched you? Perhaps we forged a bond, which allowed us to conspire in our pocket realms, even if you were yet unaware in some cases, let's say? And you were able to communicate to me in your own ways even before I saw you that day, because for you we met elsewhere and forged a bond then? Then we'd also have pocket realms where we conspire but I'm not aware! It doesn't even need to be limited by one timeline for each of us either, I have examined this thing backward and forward and from what I gather of each of our perspectives, no single one seems to form this outcome on its own. Do you think it is possible for causality to be generated through multiple paths, non-linearly, and simultaneously?" She nods sincerely now "Definitely, I've never heard it put quite like that, but yes, it most certainly is." 

"I think that would make for one of the coolest stories possible, one that once proven would focus the hearts and minds of everyone aware of it on similar ends; I mean, by comparison everything else feels a little pointless. If my legacy is to be anything, let it be a path to true love. A path perfectly imperfect with every twist, turn, and bizarre road sign that directs you with pure nonsense until you realize you are not traveling alone, and then you make your way to your companion's side, and you never need to be alone again."

She smiles, leans in and gives me another kiss, chins lit up from below and faces casting shadows on the blanket above. "A soulmate blueprint. That sounds nice, and much less work than having to manually do it ever again!"

"My only remaining concern, and less of a concern now given all this complex architecture, the edges of which even I don't think I can keep straight, is that this would mean that in some way, perhaps many ways, we have not been traveling in parallel. Oh to call my sun your sun! My home, your home! To agree on 'this' being where we wake up and 'that' being where we dream. It would be something better than a dream to know your lover by the light of day, and know they know you by the same light, in the same way."

She nods solemnly this time. "We're working on it, it is not an easy feat. Just don't go, and we will get there as fast as we can. It does involve everything you're thinking it does- a whole collision of realms, a realigning of every system, a threading of something, even someone, new in every single place. The agreement on a king, in fact, an agreement thought impossible from so many angles, especially those aware of the multiple strings of causality, the others that they are not native to, in the same way you are aware. God knows what to do though, and God will accomplish this mystery, right on time, as promised."

I lean back, hands on the ground and soaking in the sounds of the room and realm, rain on a shingled roof. I can feel eep, even more consciously than I could the first time I felt it "But I'm not overwhelmed. It's peaceful this time." "I know. It means we're nearly there." I look back at her and she has a kind of golden glow emanating from her skin, seeming to originate from her face, now beaming a smile bigger and more pure than I have ever seen. I think to lean toward her, but instead she leans toward me and we sink to the ground, her head on my chest once more. "The hardest thing to fathom about all this is that when this is accomplished I will be with you, forever. And, given reciprocity-" "The hardest thing to fathom about all of this is that I get to be with you, forever." We lay there whispering to each other for hours, the lightning and thunder have stopped, and we are now just serenaded by the rain.