I wish we could be young again, but I'm starting to feel how old we're becoming, how we're being forced to grow up. But it's okay, because what is my purpose besides you and your pretty little fingers and your bed head and morning breath? What would I do if I couldn't see you every day, couldn't cover you in kisses until you laughed at my desperate need to touch you?
It used to be only us, a blindness. Now we can see the rest of the world, and it isn't only us. But we're experiencing it all differently, because we're together. It's not a wonderful, breath taking world, it's an every day routine occasionally broken up by a sunset or movie night. We can just exist and live and be happy with each other.
Though I still love you wildly, it's not desperate. I know you're not going anywhere. I know I have you.
L
