I’ll be here always, he whispered
Tenderness melts my stone cold broken heart
For the first time in a long time, I believed again.
Category Archives: Love
A thousand ways of I love you
I fall in love with you a thousand ways every single day. I love the way your eyes sparkle with mischief, and I love the way they soften with tenderness when they look at me. I love your strong arms at night when they hold me to sleep. I love the calm and determined way you tell me, “I’m here, I’m always here” when tears are pouring down my face. I love how you silence my roaring thoughts. I love the way you treat your mama, it gives me a glimpse of how you will treat me when the years finally show on my face. I love your presence, your simple quiet presence. I love how you see good in everything, in everything and in me. I love the way you fall asleep, bundled up, your chest, rising, falling – so peaceful and perfect and unaware. I love your broad shoulders, how they never seem to carry the weight of the world (they make me believe I could be as weightless too). I love when you’re tired and grumpy, I love when you’re fresh out the shower, hair puffy and in the most endearing mess. I love the tender side you don’t show to anyone else but me. I love the way your eyes crinkle at the sides when you laugh at something silly I did. I’m always silly when I’m with you – you do that to me. You make me the lightest, happiest version of myself.
And that’s what love is isn’t it? You taught me love is simple and pure. It is happy and kind. It is days of laughter, and it is days of the mundane, my hands always intertwined with yours. It breathes life back into the darkest corners of the broken human heart. Aren’t you happy that we found it? That we found us? I’m so happy.
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ll say it to you a thousand times over until my words become your reality, just as yours have become mine.
you are the dream of my aching heart come true.
you lay in hazy golden sunlight
– so tender and sweet as you sleep.
(i once dreamed of a moment like this.)
at the sight of you,
my soft and withered heart heals.
// written this morning before he stirred awake.
Fool
The prospect of love reduces me into a manic fool. But how can I not be one, when it is the greatest desire, the biggest longing of my godforsaken heart.
How desperate my clutch becomes, how embarrassing.
But love is my desire, my greatest longing and I can’t help but to become a fool for it.
– written months ago, when I first met him.
When love is here.
I’ve written pages and pages about love and desire. I’ve stayed up late nights thinking about what it means.
But now that love is here – living and pulsating in my hands – two eyes and a heartbeat; what do I do with it?
I’m so afraid of breaking it.
For the first time, what’s past is past.
Things that used to matter so much fade away as I settle into newness of life. Into the arms of you, my newfound love.
“Doubt thou the stars are fire
Doubt that the sun doth move
Doubt truth be a liar
But never doubt I love”
(You) are my need
Found me on a basement floor
back when I had lost it all
Told me what the fight was for
and I’m not giving up no more
You elevate the life in me,
illuminate the in-between
Forever gonna feel this free and
I’m not giving up now.
A Short Story
“You are like a dancing dream, full of bright lights and colors and explosion. I could watch you all day and when you speak I never want to stop listening. You make me fall in love without even trying, and you don’t even know it.”
I wrote this ages ago. I never share little pieces like in the moment – it feels too vulnerable. But when it has all passed and when my heart has settled.. the stories become easier to tell.
He made such a mark on my heart. It was a very brief and fragile time, but I catch myself missing it every single day.
Wishful Thinking
Coffee, hope, poetry. I don’t know if I’d read it somewhere, but these three words keep ringing wistfully in my head lately. Perhaps it is because they are representative of the things that tug at my heart the most in this life. Oh would we all be so lucky to have our days filled with drawn out coffee conversations, quiet hope and beautiful poetry that makes sense of it all. What else could one ask for. Perhaps it is the simplest things that mean the most after all.
Thoughts of Eternity 