I want my words to provide stitching to her wounds. I want my words the follow the emptying chambers of her heart and fill them. Not only with my love for her, but through her learning to love her like I love her. I’ll be the basilisk fang to her problems.
I want to be able to express how I feel and this is how I know best. My heart flows into tandem with the pen ink as it hits the page. My deepest emotions are letters typed through my keyboard. How else can I sing my praise to an angel? Every post is a love letter to her. Every word is and ode to her beauty.
Life’s biggest blessing has been to love her.
And I would love nothing more than have the opportunity to continue to know her. To learn every version of her and learn how to love that phase the most. To be better at listening. To slow down and meet her where she’s at. To elevate her. TO praise her. To see the world with her. But to also see the world reflected in her eyes. Shit’s rough out here. And as a man I fail to provide. My tortured mind never silences. But I would hold all my anguish and still carry hers as long as she had some sense of peace. I always say she’s the biggest piece of my peace and I mean it. I hope she could say the same despite all my shortcomings. Despite my failures as a man.
I want to be creative with her. Co write a book. Co produce a movie. Go half and half on some babies. What a wonderful life it would be. She excites me. She saves me. I miss her. I want to show her the world. I want this foundation of patient love I’m trying to build for her to allow us to build a steady home. Home in each other. Home in love. Anchor each other to sanity. so neither of us gets lost in our storms. Idk.
She’s everything and idk how else to say it. Or if my words are ever good enough.
I just hope she knows.