To The Man Who Doesn’t Know He’s The Love Of My Life

I woke up beside you, nestled in between your arms. You opened your eyes groggily and when you looked over at me, you smiled. I love that smile. Before I knew it, your lips were pressed against mine – your hands, gingerly resting upon my hips and my body yearned for you.

We began talking about life. You told me about your childhood, and I starred at you with awe as your poured your soul to me. You were raw, unveiling your darkest secrets, and to me – a soul who felt a kinship with you. I was entrapped by your words, by the simple melody of your voice. I was burdened, needing to remove your pain dripping from your vile memories. I wanted to soothe you, heal you. You just simply smiled and said, “Everyone has a burden to carry.” And I knew you were right about that truth.

I rested my head back down onto the pillow, inhaling the scent of your cologne on the sheets as I pulled them onto me. You wrapped yourself around me again, holding me in an embrace so tender, so lovingly, that I hardly could stop the feelings overtaking me. I knew I loved you, I had no doubt of that. But this feeling, it wasn’t love; it was much more than that. It was our love and more. It was picturing you down on one knee in the middle of a busied cafe, because you somehow knew I would love that. It was holding my father’s arm as he walked me down the aisle toward you – toward the love of my life, toward everything I had ever wanted.

It was feeling your hands wrap around my swollen belly, and it was seeing the light in your eyes the first time our child called you daddy. It was seeing you change diapers and complain about work and teach our first born how to play the guitar. I saw my entire life with you flash before me eyes, and me, just hopeful that it would happen. When I looked at you, I saw more than love.

I saw my life.