It is moments like Sunday I wish I could freeze. Push the virutal pause button on life and just enjoy over and over. So perfect that I lack the words to express the emotion. The conversations that are unspoken and say so much. Just being close to you and feeling safe and secure about my place in the world. As though all at once I am a giddy little child, yet a grounded woman and it is all OK.
I must write them down. Here or elsewhere. I go over them again and again. When nostalgia hits and it is oh so often. Or when the world is just too tedious, scary, frustrating and such.
Then I think of you. And your smile, your scent, the way your heart races and how you feel as though a puzzle piece next to me.
I hope only to enjoy variations of this feeling over and over. For as long or as short of a life I am granted. For I cannot fathom it being any better. And to be honest, I do not want to try. You are the form of perfection I seek, need and enjoy.
And I would be willing to guess you have no idea, just how much it all means to my little head.
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