I will love you until you forget—who she was, how she left, why you stopped believing in love and in yourself for a minute. I will love you until you remember your worth.
I love you more. Which is to say that we all have numbered days, but I want to spend my temporary forever standing next to you.
I see you in every place I enjoy, knowing one day those will be our places, and not just mine.
These miles are merely a number.
And I won’t let them separate my love for you.
We are like stars—there’s a chance we might burn out. There’s a chance the universe knows our destiny, knows we’re meant to fade before the light years even reach us.
What if we forget what it’s like to feel the softness of one another’s lips, the taste of one another’s love on our tongues?
Give me yourself so that I can love every part of you, so that I can stand beside you when the storms come, so that we can make meaning of this life, even when it hurts.
So maybe this is what it’s like to know something is real—because whatever’s in front of you no longer compares.
I think I’ve had it wrong in the past. I was forever chasing a person rather than a dream, forever looking for love rather than a person to love life alongside me.
I don’t want a superhero, a prince charming, a savior. I don’t want anything other than an imperfect soul intertwining his arms, his hands, his heart with me.