She loved him with every part of her being. Love didn't seem strong enough a word to describe it. At some point along the way, he had become a part of her. So much so that she felt panicked if she didn't see him one day, as if suddenly realizing that she was walking without one of her arms.
They were comfortable with each other, she decided. That was better than plain, adrenaline-pumped puppy love. Because the adrenaline eventually fades until there's nothing left.
They were bound to each other so violently that she could no longer make out what was hers and what was his. She'd absorbed his goals and dreams and outlooks and he had absorbed hers. They were one unit; two parts of a whole.
And that's why "love" seemed very subdued an emotion in her eyes.
This was more.
What they had, no language had invented a word for just yet.
YOU ARE READING
Musings of a Creative Mind
RandomSometimes I get these overwhelming thoughts that gnaw at me until I put pen to paper and they come out. I don't know where they belong, or which story they are a part of, only that they need to be expressed. This is a collection of these writings u...
