Our days together have faded into night and from those nights come memories of passion, love, and romance. An imperfect blend, for we are imperfect creatures, yet within our mistakes we have found a golden path to happiness. Who can say how many more days are left in the saga that is our life together. What adventures shall we see tomorrow, with you the world is open and the possibilities are immeasurable. I find comfort in your company; the touch of your hand solidifies my resolve and inspires me to walk taller. I would always strive to not only provide you everything you should ever want, but to also anticipate and hope to provide even that which you do not need yet.
We balance each other, even when it feels like we are against each other. United though we are, we are still separate entities. Your goals and passions are your own, I do not enter your world unless invited, and so is the line in the sand the same for your toes as well. I enjoy our union, but I also appreciate the way in which we allow each other to breath. It has always been a struggle of mine to feel as if the oxygen were being sucked out of the room by someone else. You do not get this feeling as much when you are truly in love.
When we met on that fateful day, the day our hearts were lost to one another, who could have guessed such a dreary day could have brought such happiness. And through the nervous introductions we soon discovered a kindred spirit, a wonderful new spring of untapped passion. Once I had tasted its sweet water I knew a new kind of thirst that I had never experienced. Unquenchable, the need for more was like a sudden adrenaline rush that I can remember to this day. Love, that such a simple word can bring such a flood of feelings and can create bonds of unity in between strangers. Love is such an innocent word that can bring such happiness, as well as such pain.
As I lay now next to you, watching you slumber peacefully. Oblivious to the struggle that I undertake to put these emotions into words. It is a task fit for a poet like Shakespeare or a writer of epics like Homer. I shall still strive to write it for you my love and if I should fail then will I endeavor to instead show you my love. I have never been a painter, my oratory skills have always been wanting, but if I could describe for you the perfect kiss or our perfect love then I would be happy. For to describe my affection for you would be the ultimate accomplishment.