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Observations, Ch 258

«T’hy’la.

That one untranslatable, ambiguous, arcane Vulcan word captures everything he is to me, and everything I am to him. It means little to anyone else, but between us, it encapsulates all the experiences we have shared, the long hard road we have traveled to get here. It reminds us who we were, it shows us who we are now, and it holds infinite possibilities for who we will be in the future.

At the same time, we do not need the word t’hy’la. We are who we are—we know ourselves and each other. We know what we have together, and no single word in any language in this universe can describe it. It seems to be one of the ironies of language that once one truly understands the meaning of a word, once one has lived that word, one does not need to define it. It simply is. Words are necessary outlines of concepts and objects, but they fall short in so many ways. Jim and I are t’hy’la. That is what others will call us, but to each other, we are ourselves.

We will be remembered by our names, our faces, our deeds and exploits. He will be a symbol, I will be his shadow. They will call us t’hy’la, never understanding what it means, never comprehending its depth. The word provides the outline—they will imagine for themselves the details. Our relationship will be romanticized, caricatured, vandalized, canonized, perhaps immortalized, perhaps forgotten. But no matter the ages, no matter the place and no matter the people, we are ourselves.

We are writing our own love, we are writing our own lives, discovering our own language as we go. A language of mathematics and poetry, of logic and emotion, by which we may express the truths we find and the beauty that lies there.

Tomorrow, we will be bonded.

T’hy’la.»

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