Just those silly little things we do for love.
|If the fact that I would walk 10,000 miles just for a hug doesn’t scare you, maybe this will. I love you. End of story. Well, it isn’t really the end of the story. There’s more.
Maybe it’s because I haven’t been held in such a long time by anyone that makes your touch feel so good. You should have a surgeon general warning tattooed onto your hands that says: “Warning; may cause blurred vision and dizziness may occur. Do not operate heavy machinery or automobiles as you may crash your ass into a wall or wrap yourself around a tree.”
I’ve never in my life felt so compelled to be with someone as I do at this point. It isn’t some stalker sickness, it isn’t a sexual desire; I just love you. I’d stand in the middle of the pouring rain in front of your house just to know that in a few minutes, in an hour, in a few days, you’d let me in, and I’d be soaking wet, but warm and most importantly in your arms. Your arms are home to me. I feel like I belong there, like I’ve been there forever. Your touch has become such a part of me, something only love can produce, and I will someday make sure that you know I can’t live without it.
The simplicity of your caress puts me to sleep. It’s not elaborate, it’s not a continuous rub in one place, and yet it’s not a quick, hectic, motion that tends to worry me. I’d give my house, my car, my money, my life; just to be with you for the rest of my existence. You’re so incredible it terrifies me to think that this may not last forever.
As of now, you’re cuddled up with me asleep in my arms. Your head is on my shoulder, your arms are around me and the rain that I would stand in for days at a time waiting for you is beating hard on the roof. It’s rhythmic, just like the beat of your heart. There’s a breeze from the window that blows your hair away from your face. I can see you’re smiling. That’s all that matters. You’re in my arms and you’re smiling. I forgot to tell you before that you’re beautiful when you sleep. You give me a reason to go to those silly little extremes.