January 1, 2026, Sumire Gant and Antonio Pedro Ruiz celebrate forty-one years of sharing their lives.

The romantic in me 
searches for words 

to speak to you
for feelings to feel
to share with you

January 1, 1985

when I crawled down 
the 405 from Westwood
to San Pedro
to move into your apartment

the one with the spectacular view 
of San Pedro Harbor

where on a clear day
you can see down the pacific ocean coast

hell, they say you can see all the way to Newport Beach

but, I could clearly see something
between us

I heard someone call it

magnets

we are

magnets

attracting each other
from the first moment
that very first moment 
I laid eyes upon you

How is it possible
we often joke

how is it possible
how do I describe us

two 
very different
not strong enough a word

dissimilar 
does not do it justice

too contradictory
close but no prize

two people from opposite sides of the country
hell, opposite sides of the solar system

magnets

that is the only way to call it

whatever it     is

first, three thousand miles couldn’t keep us apart
me in Washington, D.C.
you in L.A.

then, I rushed here 
in an ambulance of sorts 
(they called it an airplane)

broken
hurting
needing mending
emergency mental surgery
and 
you helped me
without anesthesia
cold turkey

funny thing love

even when we couldn’t 
or 
wouldn’t call it love

but love it was
must have been

otherwise
how did we do it

forty-one years
living together
thirty-eight years of marriage

a child
careers
traveling the world fantastic

together

through emotions
of
laughter
pain
hurt
crying
strength

a lot of giggling involved

a mystery to me

how did you do it
how did I do it

you were always there
I was always there

a mystery.