the feeling and concept of comfort is something i associate closely with you. whether its being in your intoxicating presence or reminsicing on your words, i am awfully content with you. when you lay with me, on me, entwined with me, every nerve in my body is calmed and my mind quiets. my heartbeat slows, steadies, and falls in line with your breaths. peace is being wrapped with you in a blanket, silence washing over us like a wave. i find comfort in the fact that you still love me, and that you can sleep in my presence. i take comfort in the fact that i also give you comfort, and it makes me want to drop everything just to be with you. sometimes comfort can feel monotonous, like there is a lack of thrill. i do not feel that with you, i am not bored with the content feeling that overcomes me when i step away from your door, a soft smile on my lips as i tread down the stairs. leaving confused is a thing of the past, i feel you as strongly as i did two years ago and although there are so many unanswered questions i do not find my self begging for answers. instead i am comforted in the unknown, that there is more to our story than the abrupt ending let on.
