I’ll never understand how you can be so patient with me. So forgiving, so able to put up with my shit.
Love can sometimes be defined by an undefinable action. I don’t know why you do what you do. It must be love.
I am a walking tornado against the sea. And I love the shore our life creates between us, for us. I hope we can walk hand in hand across our worlds for a bit longer. Just a bit longer to know someone holds my hand across the sea.
She comes into your life and brings nature’s blessing. And with her entrance comes a curse of wanton passion. The grass is still alive as it blazes in the sun. The chorus of our laughter floats gently in the Spring breeze. We are the definition of love and our hands are linked as we dance amongst the growing and the grown alike. We enjoy timeless sunsets on picturesque settings creating canvases waiting to be painted at each moment. We love.
Time works wonders and bonds grow firm. We resolve to walk quietly into the night together. Hands held tightly against the shadows we once faced alone. We pick each other up in the heat of the Summer, against the blazing sun and humanity’s punishment. We turn as one, in unison with one another’s needs. I am your need and you are mine. And like an oak tree we grow together.
The rain has come and we have weathered storms. We still touch… but sometimes our hands Fall like leaves from our tired limbs. The chatter of children running around our base keeps us united, we are still united with finger painted signs and chalk figures. But some nights are cold and the moon shines two shadows upon the ground.
It snows here in Denver. The Winter seems to be most of the year… at least lately. But even with the constant ice, it does melt with the strength of will. A will we share each morning and return to each night. The seasons form a timeless ring that hardens into a golden promise. They touch each time our hands unite with infused emotion. Regardless of what emotion that is the presence of feelings means that we still care.
When the wife and I were dating and I was still in Cheyenne I found my favorite smell. Previously I would have said fahrenheit was my favorite smell, but then I found a bottle of Lucky Number 6.
You know those smells that take you back? This smell takes me back to a red 2006 Mitsubishi Eclipse, sun on our faces, and no cares in the world. For me it was a time of zero fucks, finding myself and losing myself at the same time.
And then I met her and everything changed. Cheyenne became Denver and hills formed into mountains.
Mountains became a home and there appeared our memories. Two of them.
We became more than just friends and then in the end I smelled it again.