Your Love Is The Greatest Gift

I’ve been blessed with abundance, showered in opportunity. I’ve been doused in a river of privilege, a sea that blinds me to the riches beyond my reach. But those blessings fade with time, yellowing like the weathered pages of the story we’ve written because your love remains above all else. Your love, your affection, your devotion is the greatest gift.

You’ve wrapped me in your arms as I’ve cried a river of thick, dark tears, wishing my pain away as you hold me against your steady heart. You’ve caressed me in the wake of pain, stroking me from afar with your gentle words. You’ve cherished every iota of my being, accepting my foibles, loving my flaws, holding my hand in yours, my heart in yours forever.

Your love empowers me. Its strong, steady current imbues my heart with faith and courage, filling my soul with fantasies come alive, dreams turned to reality. It nestles itself beneath my fears, blooming in the fertile soil until I blossom alongside it, yearning to reach for more. It propels me forward, launching me into a world unknown, a life full of glorious possibility.

Your love teaches me my worth. It seeps into the cracks of my mind, banishing fear, vanquishing doubt. It elevates my spirit, lifting me high above the clouds, adorning me in silver and gold as I recognize my unwavering sufficiency. It cradles me as I begin to fall, placing me back on a golden throne without care, without question.

Your love heals me. It smooths the blemishes on my heart, the cracks and scars of heartaches past, unremorsefully, unconditionally. It weathers the storms within my soul, battling the mounting tides that threaten to extinguish my being, pulling me through the undertow to the peaceful shores ahead. It transforms repulse into beauty, terror into calm, and melancholy into joy, shedding the weight of tears and aches, peacefully restoring my spirit.

I’ve been blessed with abundance, trinkets glimmering in silver and gold. But every time I meet your eyes, feeling your heartbeat against mine, the blessings tarnish, yellowing like the weathered pages of the story we’ve written. As you hold me, nothing but your love remains because your love is the greatest gift. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Lives for red lipstick, high heels, 80’s pop, cats, and Oxford commas.

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