There's this thing that happens with time and life, and it's that however things are in this moment we fail to appreciate how drastically they'll change over time. Yet, in this unique moment, I feel as if I'm at the top of a wave looking in to shore and there’s a short freeze-frame before gravity and momentum take us. People with children say "they grow up so quickly" or "time speeds up", but it happens with relationships too. Just the other day I was meeting a girl at Port Authority that my mother asked me to show around New York, and yesterday I woke up and it was the morning of our 6th wedding anniversary. Deep into our 11th year together. We had a late dinner reservation the night before and talked about when the next time we'd be able to do that would be. We woke up early to lounge by the pool at the hotel before checking out, and I kept licking my lips or smelling the air. We lay side by side on a pool bed, but Leo was laying next to a sponge. With the sun beaming down, I opened up all of my pores to let in the fleeting final moments of our twosome. The tectonic plates of our existence have shifted and ground against each-other for long enough that now we've built a volcano and so soon all that we are will emerge in a physical representation of another. Our ultimate union. And yet, I couldn't tell you when the moment was that we went from trading secrets on a stoop on Grand Street in lower Manhattan to intertwining our lives. I would do it all over again minute for minute and I wouldn't want to do it with anyone else. @leoblackstudio 🧬