one of the many faces of love
a rough draft ode/paeon to my beloved:
He stays up to five in the morning or gets up at 3:00 am just to talk with me if I am free after work in time.
He makes videos of staring contests just so I can look into his eyes while I am thousands of miles away.
He writes me beautiful daily emails even though his strengths are opposite mine: much rather speak than write.
He taught me how to be romantic--taught me that is nothing to scoff at or turn your nose to, but that it is lovely and cherished and...true. I never thought it could be so true.
He express mailed me two boxes of Life cereal (large) and two Clif bars...even though it cost nearly $50. Even though he has no job.
He showed me that love exists for me when I was busy convincing myself of my love of aloneness.
He reads my mind and understands when I can`t even fully explain.
He claims to have no poetry, but he spouts it off to me when he is simply speaking truth from the heart.
When I can barely face thinking of another day of work, he inspires and revitalizes me just by his existence, just through his love.
I think of all his sweet words to see me through the days of exhaustion, language confusion, silence. When it has been a week since I have touched or been touched by anyone, I imagine his arm around me, the warmth of his cheek against my wet one when we said farewell.
I open up the file of all the pictures of us together and stare gape-jawed, for I still can`t believe we are together, that he really, finally filled the vacant slot of my dreams.
He has given me so much of his time, comforted my woes, shared in my joy, loved everything about me I despised, and given me a new confidence I couldn`t achieve on my own. He has made me a better person by laughing, by smiling, by giving me different perceptions.
Most of all, he loves me, which is what all these things mean anyway. The visual, audital, etc of love. Love, concrete.
I cannot encapsulate him, of course. `I love you` can barely express any of this. My emotions cannot be bottled up and poured on ice for him to drink and taste and know.
But I know he knows this feeling, for we share one mind, one heart, one soul. And I trust he understandings everything I fail to express. For that is what we are to each other.
And I hope, most of all, that each one of you may know this in your lifetime, for I have known nothing better.
He stays up to five in the morning or gets up at 3:00 am just to talk with me if I am free after work in time.
He makes videos of staring contests just so I can look into his eyes while I am thousands of miles away.
He writes me beautiful daily emails even though his strengths are opposite mine: much rather speak than write.
He taught me how to be romantic--taught me that is nothing to scoff at or turn your nose to, but that it is lovely and cherished and...true. I never thought it could be so true.
He express mailed me two boxes of Life cereal (large) and two Clif bars...even though it cost nearly $50. Even though he has no job.
He showed me that love exists for me when I was busy convincing myself of my love of aloneness.
He reads my mind and understands when I can`t even fully explain.
He claims to have no poetry, but he spouts it off to me when he is simply speaking truth from the heart.
When I can barely face thinking of another day of work, he inspires and revitalizes me just by his existence, just through his love.
I think of all his sweet words to see me through the days of exhaustion, language confusion, silence. When it has been a week since I have touched or been touched by anyone, I imagine his arm around me, the warmth of his cheek against my wet one when we said farewell.
I open up the file of all the pictures of us together and stare gape-jawed, for I still can`t believe we are together, that he really, finally filled the vacant slot of my dreams.
He has given me so much of his time, comforted my woes, shared in my joy, loved everything about me I despised, and given me a new confidence I couldn`t achieve on my own. He has made me a better person by laughing, by smiling, by giving me different perceptions.
Most of all, he loves me, which is what all these things mean anyway. The visual, audital, etc of love. Love, concrete.
I cannot encapsulate him, of course. `I love you` can barely express any of this. My emotions cannot be bottled up and poured on ice for him to drink and taste and know.
But I know he knows this feeling, for we share one mind, one heart, one soul. And I trust he understandings everything I fail to express. For that is what we are to each other.
And I hope, most of all, that each one of you may know this in your lifetime, for I have known nothing better.