My dearest love,
The stars lined up that day. I know it sounds cliche, but they really did. It was as if a thousand angels had worked a thousand years to make sure everything was just right. Their angelic wings touched everything, turning all into a dream of goodness, purity, and light.
But nothing could match the light that comes from your eyes, dear one.
Your eyes - so full of wonder and glory and joy. Your eyes - like pools of deepest contemplation. Your eyes - in which I find reflected all the hope I have for the future. I see the intelligence that brings light to my life, like a summer rain to desert landscapes. I see the hope that reaches across the chasm of the eternities and fills the immensity of space with light. I see, most precious to me, I see the love that is reserved only for me.
And it is wondrous to me.
Then you smile, a secret, sweet smile that warms my very soul. A smile - that simple gesture that means so much - a smile that breaks down years of unseen and unknown defenses. A smile that contains the very golden light of the sun, brighter and warmer than a summer's day, sweeter and more lovely than a gentle breeze full of honeysuckle perfume. Just a smile, in the way that a hurricane is just a storm.
My soul is reborn each time I even think of your smile.
Your touch is worth a thousand summer days laying warm in the sun, stretched out on a blanket on a vast sea of green, green grass. It is as though the power of a bolt of lightning had been tempered and sweetened to the point that one may endure - but only just. I feel your touch on my cheek, on my arm, on my chest, a touch I never knew, yet a touch that makes me feel home. Never did anyone feel so blessed by the noble, heavenly angel's wing.
I bemoan the frailties of human language which are at a complete loss to describe my feelings.
I love you. People say I love you all the time. Can these three words contain the universe of feeling that I have for you? Can you know what I mean when I say I love you? Is it possible for the immensity of the ocean to be contained in a mason jar? Could all of the sands of all the beaches and deserts be contained in one hour glass? As easily may the light of all the stars, all the photons ever emitted by all the stars that have ever been born, gone super nova, and faded away, be contained on a photographer's slide.
For two people to find each other, to love each other - this is truly sublime. This is the very presence of God Himself.
People say that feelings change over time. That passions fade. That love grows dim. That lovers grow old. That separation divides and removes and eliminates. Yet this is not possible. The time spent apart only serves to heighten and attenuate the longing, the bittersweet ache of desire, the raging fires of passion within, banked though they may be. Indeed, as Epicurus taught - we must sup at the table of life such that we find satiety, that when it is time to push away from this vast feast of feelings and experiences we have no regrets. Yet it is also important for us to experience times of hunger, of delayed satisfaction and gratification, that we may learn how sweet life really is.
And life with you is sweet, even when separated. Who can separate two hearts that beat as one?
The sum of all existence is this: to love, and to be loved. I love you. I am loved by you. This is my existence. This is who I am and who I always shall be. Nothing will change that. Tides come in and out, mountains arise and are worn down, and celestial events pass in a delirium of silence. All of these things shall pass away, but my love for you will always remain.
Please hear me. Please listen to my heart and know of the depth of my feeling. Please know I adore you with that love and adoration that is worshipful and sweet and overarching. I abase myself before the altar that is my love for you, forever and ever.
I love you.
Mon ami.
The stars lined up that day. I know it sounds cliche, but they really did. It was as if a thousand angels had worked a thousand years to make sure everything was just right. Their angelic wings touched everything, turning all into a dream of goodness, purity, and light.
But nothing could match the light that comes from your eyes, dear one.
Your eyes - so full of wonder and glory and joy. Your eyes - like pools of deepest contemplation. Your eyes - in which I find reflected all the hope I have for the future. I see the intelligence that brings light to my life, like a summer rain to desert landscapes. I see the hope that reaches across the chasm of the eternities and fills the immensity of space with light. I see, most precious to me, I see the love that is reserved only for me.
And it is wondrous to me.
Then you smile, a secret, sweet smile that warms my very soul. A smile - that simple gesture that means so much - a smile that breaks down years of unseen and unknown defenses. A smile that contains the very golden light of the sun, brighter and warmer than a summer's day, sweeter and more lovely than a gentle breeze full of honeysuckle perfume. Just a smile, in the way that a hurricane is just a storm.
My soul is reborn each time I even think of your smile.
Your touch is worth a thousand summer days laying warm in the sun, stretched out on a blanket on a vast sea of green, green grass. It is as though the power of a bolt of lightning had been tempered and sweetened to the point that one may endure - but only just. I feel your touch on my cheek, on my arm, on my chest, a touch I never knew, yet a touch that makes me feel home. Never did anyone feel so blessed by the noble, heavenly angel's wing.
I bemoan the frailties of human language which are at a complete loss to describe my feelings.
I love you. People say I love you all the time. Can these three words contain the universe of feeling that I have for you? Can you know what I mean when I say I love you? Is it possible for the immensity of the ocean to be contained in a mason jar? Could all of the sands of all the beaches and deserts be contained in one hour glass? As easily may the light of all the stars, all the photons ever emitted by all the stars that have ever been born, gone super nova, and faded away, be contained on a photographer's slide.
For two people to find each other, to love each other - this is truly sublime. This is the very presence of God Himself.
People say that feelings change over time. That passions fade. That love grows dim. That lovers grow old. That separation divides and removes and eliminates. Yet this is not possible. The time spent apart only serves to heighten and attenuate the longing, the bittersweet ache of desire, the raging fires of passion within, banked though they may be. Indeed, as Epicurus taught - we must sup at the table of life such that we find satiety, that when it is time to push away from this vast feast of feelings and experiences we have no regrets. Yet it is also important for us to experience times of hunger, of delayed satisfaction and gratification, that we may learn how sweet life really is.
And life with you is sweet, even when separated. Who can separate two hearts that beat as one?
The sum of all existence is this: to love, and to be loved. I love you. I am loved by you. This is my existence. This is who I am and who I always shall be. Nothing will change that. Tides come in and out, mountains arise and are worn down, and celestial events pass in a delirium of silence. All of these things shall pass away, but my love for you will always remain.
Please hear me. Please listen to my heart and know of the depth of my feeling. Please know I adore you with that love and adoration that is worshipful and sweet and overarching. I abase myself before the altar that is my love for you, forever and ever.
I love you.
Mon ami.
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