It all started with a message.

As all modern love stories do.

Two writers caught in a dance, a simple thing, but complex at the same time. Each of them weaving their stories into the other's and neither realizing what was happening until it was far too late.

She wrote stories.

He wrote poetry. Among other things. But, she saw him as a poet first and that was the lens through which she would always see him.

"I liked this a lot," he wrote, "I can see every detail you wrote. It just came alive. I can't wait to read more."

"Oh my god, thank you. That's so nice. I'm glad you liked it."

And then some time went by.

She stumbled onto one of his poems.

"Wow," she wrote, "this is so good. I can't believe you wrote it. It's so well done. I'm going to go find the rest of your work right now."

And so she did. She made a few more comments, but mostly read. Each poem better than the one before it.

"I know this sounds funny, but you arrange words well. They always have the perfect placement."

She wrote the comment and waited for a reply. And waited some more and then realized that she was sitting there waiting for a reply from a total stranger and went back to her work.

A little while later, a notification popped up, "I arrange words well?"

"Well, you do," she wrote back quicker than she intended.

"Thanks I appreciate it. No one's ever said that before."

And that was all. He went back to writing and so did she.

Until he saw another one of her stories. It moved him to the point where he had to write something.

"I don't even know what to say except this was so good that I've read it through twice. It's simply amazing. It's easily one of the best things I've ever read."

A little while later, he got a reply, "Well thank you. That means a lot. It's always nice when another writer likes your work. That's very kind of you to say."

And so it went.

Some compliments here. Nothing really more than that.

Until one day he saw her on social media. She just popped up and he figured he should follow. Plus, he'd get to see more of her work.

And so he followed.

And shortly after she followed back.

He was more excited than he thought when he saw it.

And so it continued. He'd see stories and he would say how much he liked them. He'd put up poems and she would write under every one.

And finally the first message came.

She messaged him one day saying how much she appreciated all the nice things he said about her work.

He answered in kind. He admitted that half of the time he only wrote them so he'd get to correspond with her.

"So why didn't you message me?" she asked.

"I was playing hard to get," he answered.

"Oh were you now."

"Well, it worked," he wrote.

"I suppose it did."

"This all going according to my plan."

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"What else do you have planned?"

"You'll see."

"I will."

"Yes, as soon as I've thought of it."

"Oh god. For a second I really did think you had a plan."

"Oh I did. You just messaged me sooner than I thought you would. It's forcing me to speed up my timetable."

"Well I certainly couldn't wait for you. I'd have died of old age."

"Not old age. I would have texted eventually."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes."

"How soon."

"Within two years for sure."

"Oh my god. You're too much."

"I know."

"I really liked that poem you put up earlier."

"You did? I was hoping you'd like it."

"You were?"

"Yes, I hope you like everything I write."

"I do like everything you write."

"You don't know how much that means to hear that…errr…read that."

"I know what you meant."

"And I know exactly how much it means because I feel the same when I hear from you."

"Oh wow. I don't what to say."

"You don't have anything to say."

And so it went. They talked day and night. They talked of their lives and most importantly they talked of their writing.

They compared notes. He helped with he stories. She helped with his poetry.

Finally, he wrote one day, "I have another poem."

"Great. I must have missed it."

"It's not published. It's…for you."

"Oh show me."

And he sent.

And waited.

And waited.

He couldn't stand to look at his phone anymore, when his phone dinged.

"This is amazing. I don't even know what to say. I love it. I love it so much."

And so he took a chance.

The chance of all chance.

"Do you think you can fall in love in someone just by reading their words?"

"Yes," she said, "because that's how I know I love you."