I think it’s cute. He was watching Vampire Diaries out there earlier today on the phone with me, and he was talking to me about it. Now I’m watching it, and it feels like he’s here watching it with me.
It’s exhilarating and spontaneous and playful. It’s custom made for me, like He took His sweet and patient time in making you perfectly for me. I can’t deny our attraction. But it’s not about the our carnal attributes. It’s the way we connect. The spark I feel every time that you glance my way, or spill your uncensored thoughts. You know how there are different meanings for the closest descriptions of situations in different languages? Sometimes it’s easier to describe it in different tongues…… but I’m not sure something could cover it so perfectly. You remind me of a perfect vacation, worry-free and endless. You’re like the first sip of coffee to energize me in my early mornings. You’re the perfect storm. You’re the smell of freshly toasted coconut, or maybe warm, fresh-out-the-oven white chocolate chip - macadamia cookies, sweet and nutty, rich and smooth. You’re the perfect relaxant. If they could bottle you up, you’d be the happy pill. What intrigues me most is your faith, and the way you love Him. You’ve proved that you’re different from the others, you had never had to make a point in trying to convince me. Your actions did it for you. You are poetry, my favorite love song.
I could write a series of novels, a collection of libraries, countless memoirs of you. You’re just so amazing to me. I find myself speechless and overflowing with thoughts at the same time… is that even possible? You defy reason. Your unforgettable and indescribable qualities are as countless as the stars, always regenerating and growing.
I more than love you.
Is it weird if I said I can’t wait to have a family with him? To establish a life together and to be deliriously happy for the rest of my life?
On the one hand, I never want to overuse the word “love,” and to therefore degrade its meaning and sacredness; perhaps if I said it far and few times it would gain meaning instead of losing it… but on the other, my heart yearns to remind you every time it feels so inclined.
I could write storybooks about your love, legends and fairytales based on your love… children’s books and sonnets of your love… stacks and shelves, libraries just filled with your love. But I could never encapsulate the feeling and emotion behind everything that you’ve ever made me feel… or the way that your words and actions make me tremble in ecstasy, the way that your heart outshines even the brightest illuminating, illustrious sunrises that set the sky ablaze.
I just can’t.
There is nothing as mighty.
It felt good when they ask me if I’m with the same guy… like they don’t believe I am. Because I’m proud to be with him and I know that any girl would want my place. And if people have anything to say it’s because they don’t have any idea what this relationship is like. We like to keep things private, and even my closest friends don’t know the full story. I’m in firm and stable agreement that a relationship should stay between the two parties, and no one else. People are way too nosy and way too trifling to be messing their face, thoughts, and opinions in your business. It’s dumb. So I keep my personal business personal now.
I’ve never met anyone more beautiful. I’ve never so gently been coerced into love, I hadn’t even fallen. I’d danced, leapt, skipped into love. I’ve never been so infatuated by someone’s personality and heart, not even things that had to deal with the physical attributes of a being. But you are easy on the eyes too. Un jour, je suis sûr que je vais avoir le plaisir de vous appeler mon mari et moi, ta femme. Car, mon cher, tu es mon coeur, même maintenant. Your troubled past makes you intricate and interesting… If I said the thought of us being together, as one, has never crossed my mind, I’d be lying. Because I’ve thought of you and me; I could see forever looking at you.
Truth is,
I’m so in love with him, but I can’t hardly describe it. I can’t wait to be with him for life.
We met my aunt’s fiancé’s family, and they were lovely.
Everything would have been perfect, only he was missing.
I wish I could inspire myself to pinpoint one instant in time that really defined when I knew I loved you… but all I can think of is a time where there were few thoughts in my soul:
I was insecure. I was broken.
You was a stranger, just someone who paid a little extra attention to me when I felt alone and invisible. I jokingly called you my angel, my guardian angel.. you were the one who looked over me, checked on me when no one else seemed to care. I’d write for days about expression and self-taught thoughts, of things I’d wish people would take notice to, but no one ever did. They were only really ever observant to the images that flitted my pages, much as they do now, and only to the pictures of myself… they cared not about the things that ran through my mind, or the people affiliated with my every day interactions, they were only interested in physical attributes. You, sir, restored my faith in Him, in people who have the same morals and beliefs as I had. You matched me in ways even my best friends could never wrap their minds around. It was something I couldn’t explain; I’d try and find the right words, but nothing could suffice my hunger for finding the exact feeling you instill in me. There were times I’d try and draw parallels to the most legendary love stories and poems written, the more dramatic the lyrics were, the closer they were at describing our relationship. Sometimes, it was simplistic, and at other times, the most complex love.
There were moments that we were inseparable, that we were tethered at the soul, whatever I felt, you felt, whatever you felt, I felt too. There were days that I could swear we were telepathic, that things could be transferred from my mind to yours, my heart to yours. I felt broken whenever I wasn’t with you, or with your spirit, days that I felt forlorn and not myself without your love.
I had fallen in love with your thoughts, the complexities that flooded your intricate and delicate mind, formed and molded from the toughest circumstances. For a while, I think we both denied it, rejected it, and one day it all came together, it clicked. There wasn’t another way to escape it, and we appeased to it. There was no fighting it anymore, we were in love.
It had all started with a phone call, I was distraught, and we had established a pretty strong connection and friendship by this point. You’d called and stayed up all night with me, and we laughed the night away, watching George Lopez together. I don’t believe we slept at all.
We had dry patches where we wouldn’t speak for months at a time, and you were still the only one on my mind, the only person I was truly concerned with. Wherever you were, I’d wish I was there too.. sharing in your experiences.
Then one day, shortly after our hiatus, you’d call, and admit that you loved me, took me by surprise, out of nowhere. All I could do was drift off to sleep with the hugest, corniest, looniest smile on my face.
I wanted to say something back… it didn’t matter how hard I persevered, I couldn’t. There wasn’t an appropriate response in my eyes, except to be a complete idiot, smiling myself into slumber.
See, the thing was, love wasn’t even the word, not in the slightest. I mean, it might have been then, you know, way before either of us cared to profess it, but by this point, it’d progressed to something so much bigger than that. I could swear to the sun, and the moon, and the stars that love was all it was all along, it’s all it is now. But the truth of the matter is, it’s so much bigger than that.
But love does not cover it from edge to edge, what our relationship is. It is so much bigger than any word, even a word as strong as that one that starts with an L that is littered throughout this post, but the way I feel about you cannot be expressed or encompassed or encapsulated within one word alone, but for now, love will do until a newer and better idiom, an expression, a phrase is invented to explain to others what you mean to me.
For now, in comparison, I will just say I >love you, because I do. I more than love you.
You help me believe in forever.
If someone were to ask me what you smelled like, I’d say a freshly cut Christmas tree, something that brings nostalgia, or maybe freshly cut grass… You know, the kind you smell on warm, endless summer days. If I were to describe what you taste like, maybe I’d say you taste a lot like hot chocolate on a wintery December day, or like chocolate covered strawberries, my absolute favorite sinful decadence. If I had to describe you, you’d be the perfect ending to my favorite book, or the satisfying first sip of coffee on a manic Monday, maybe the scalding hot, relaxing shower at the end of a busy and drawn-out day. If I had to describe your wonder, it’d be much like a child’s crayons to an empty coloring book, like oil paints to van Gogh, Michaelangelo’s Sistine Chapel.
I love you so much, and these are only the few words that I could string together.
You mean the world to me, and I love you way more than you know.
