(no subject)
You and I belong at the beginning of a sentence. You and I belong filling a frame. I picture us in no place too distracting, but in white hallways and wooden doorways that are only more descript by our presence. Nothing but us; everywhere enchanting because we are there.
You make me wish I was more of a girl, more teary eyed and expressive so that I could reveal to you just how thoroughly you melt my heart and delight me beyond my wildest dreams, over and over again. So forgive me, precious man, that my vulnerabilities have been pressed and molded to a form that declares less passionate displays of need and longing, desire and admiration. My words are fewer and less desperate than you have been accustomed to. I exist within our union much the same person as I always was, no lover's hex blinding me to pain or self-pity. My romanticism is shameful next to yours. If thrown off a happily anticipated course, my pleasure can be unrecoverable, while you would be quickly resilient just being in my company. It seems that nonetheless you have perceived, my faithful, discerning man, just how deeply my love for you is established. You know me, a feat in and of itself, and moreover without even my effort to be known. And you are satisfied. I am so stoic and yet you are so inspired. You love me madly. I love you enduringly. These differences are my little treasures. I love to look at them and wonder at us, not even remotely stumped at why Heaven would choose to graft us together. All of it makes sense, both our likeness and our distinction.
So then, when you speak of questions, it bewilders me because these suppositions are foreign to my way of thinking upon us.The reality is, I am saturated with conviction. Wholly yours. Our providence is nothing shy of a fact to me. For a person of little resolve, every-grasping for certainty, this confidence I have is gold. My heart is content simply knowing that all is settled, you are mine and I am yours. I lack nothing but the years ahead of us that are in line to come anyway.
So let's linger in the kitchen. Let's get lost in a moment of bliss at the grocery store. Let's make exploring the town on a fall day priority. When the clock strikes five, let's meet at home first to take the same ride out for the night. I'll kiss you at the door before you leave in the morning. I'll pack your lunches. You'll scrape the snow off my car. We'll plan our dreams together. Make hard choices together. I'll need you, and I will admire you. And I will rest in security watching you work out your trail blazing, tree growing love for me. Our love.
You make me wish I was more of a girl, more teary eyed and expressive so that I could reveal to you just how thoroughly you melt my heart and delight me beyond my wildest dreams, over and over again. So forgive me, precious man, that my vulnerabilities have been pressed and molded to a form that declares less passionate displays of need and longing, desire and admiration. My words are fewer and less desperate than you have been accustomed to. I exist within our union much the same person as I always was, no lover's hex blinding me to pain or self-pity. My romanticism is shameful next to yours. If thrown off a happily anticipated course, my pleasure can be unrecoverable, while you would be quickly resilient just being in my company. It seems that nonetheless you have perceived, my faithful, discerning man, just how deeply my love for you is established. You know me, a feat in and of itself, and moreover without even my effort to be known. And you are satisfied. I am so stoic and yet you are so inspired. You love me madly. I love you enduringly. These differences are my little treasures. I love to look at them and wonder at us, not even remotely stumped at why Heaven would choose to graft us together. All of it makes sense, both our likeness and our distinction.
So then, when you speak of questions, it bewilders me because these suppositions are foreign to my way of thinking upon us.The reality is, I am saturated with conviction. Wholly yours. Our providence is nothing shy of a fact to me. For a person of little resolve, every-grasping for certainty, this confidence I have is gold. My heart is content simply knowing that all is settled, you are mine and I am yours. I lack nothing but the years ahead of us that are in line to come anyway.
So let's linger in the kitchen. Let's get lost in a moment of bliss at the grocery store. Let's make exploring the town on a fall day priority. When the clock strikes five, let's meet at home first to take the same ride out for the night. I'll kiss you at the door before you leave in the morning. I'll pack your lunches. You'll scrape the snow off my car. We'll plan our dreams together. Make hard choices together. I'll need you, and I will admire you. And I will rest in security watching you work out your trail blazing, tree growing love for me. Our love.