Thoughts of Her
When I wake up in the morning, I look over and see her. Sprawled out across the sheets, her hair, longer now, splashed across the pillow and her face, peaceful and radiant. Leaning over to kiss her, I smell the remains of the perfume she wore yesterday still lingering on her skin. I see the marks of our previous round of lovemaking still on her neck, the darker red of the sections of skin with bite marks. I run my finger over them, silently wishing them not to hurt, but know that they don't. My lips brushing her skin, so soft, as I press them against her, tasting her and healing her all in one kiss. Sometimes she won't move. Other times, I'll watch her eyes open sleepily, a smile spreading over her face as she stares at me. Her stare is piercing. Every time she looks at me, I feel her cutting through all the layers of me, seeing directly into my soul, reading my every thought. I feel naked and vulnerable sometimes and she can see that too. I know because she'll come over and take my hand in hers, rubbing it softly, reassuring me with no words.
She'll walk around doing house work and while I should be doing something else, like bills, work, or reading a book, I'll watch her. As she bends over to pick up things off the floor, as she loads the dishwasher, as she cooks. I love the most, watching her with Ryan. She'll get down on the floor with him and Ryan will crawl over her, smiling and cooing. She'll smile at him, her whole face lighting up, laughing and playing with him. Ryan will pull at her hair and she'll simply let him play with it. Other times, they'll play so long that he'll just lay on her stomach and fall asleep. A few times, I've caught her asleep too. It's peaceful to see, calming to the soul. She's a wonderful mother and Ryan knows that.
When I go on set, reading through my script or watching reels of film, I'll think of her out of the blue. I read a line or watch a scene and I'll think what she thought of it, what she would think was funny, sad, or how well I did during shooting. Sometimes when I'm gone for hours on end, I ache for her. I yearn to be near her and Ryan again. I work, but I don't work the same anymore. She's cursed me of enjoying just the same way as before. Because now I have something and someone to come home to, someone to enjoy my successes, my failures, my laughs, and my tears. No amount of words will ever be able to explain what she does to me and how she makes me feel. The more I write the more I think I just don't capture it the way it truly is. I'm simply leave with this-
Prayed for an angel
To come in the night
And shine some sweet light on me
Found only strangers
Then you came to me
Just when I’d given up, you gave me love
My world was tumbling down
You turned it around baby
You, you’re some kind of miracle
You are, you’re a miracle to me
Sweet revelation
That look in your eyes
Your touch in the night
I find the sweetest salvation
In your arms baby
Warm as the morning sun, your tender love
Came and just lifted me up
Look what you’ve done baby
Chorus
You brought joy to my heart
I found love in your arms
See what you’ve done to me
You set my soul so free
You came and you gave me the love that I need
You, you’re some kind of miracle
You are, you’re a miracle, a miracle to me
Baby you are, a miracle to me
I love you.
She'll walk around doing house work and while I should be doing something else, like bills, work, or reading a book, I'll watch her. As she bends over to pick up things off the floor, as she loads the dishwasher, as she cooks. I love the most, watching her with Ryan. She'll get down on the floor with him and Ryan will crawl over her, smiling and cooing. She'll smile at him, her whole face lighting up, laughing and playing with him. Ryan will pull at her hair and she'll simply let him play with it. Other times, they'll play so long that he'll just lay on her stomach and fall asleep. A few times, I've caught her asleep too. It's peaceful to see, calming to the soul. She's a wonderful mother and Ryan knows that.
When I go on set, reading through my script or watching reels of film, I'll think of her out of the blue. I read a line or watch a scene and I'll think what she thought of it, what she would think was funny, sad, or how well I did during shooting. Sometimes when I'm gone for hours on end, I ache for her. I yearn to be near her and Ryan again. I work, but I don't work the same anymore. She's cursed me of enjoying just the same way as before. Because now I have something and someone to come home to, someone to enjoy my successes, my failures, my laughs, and my tears. No amount of words will ever be able to explain what she does to me and how she makes me feel. The more I write the more I think I just don't capture it the way it truly is. I'm simply leave with this-
Prayed for an angel
To come in the night
And shine some sweet light on me
Found only strangers
Then you came to me
Just when I’d given up, you gave me love
My world was tumbling down
You turned it around baby
You, you’re some kind of miracle
You are, you’re a miracle to me
Sweet revelation
That look in your eyes
Your touch in the night
I find the sweetest salvation
In your arms baby
Warm as the morning sun, your tender love
Came and just lifted me up
Look what you’ve done baby
Chorus
You brought joy to my heart
I found love in your arms
See what you’ve done to me
You set my soul so free
You came and you gave me the love that I need
You, you’re some kind of miracle
You are, you’re a miracle, a miracle to me
Baby you are, a miracle to me
I love you.