I’m so overpowered by you. You drown me, but I come gasping up for breath right before it’s too late and the adrenaline rush keeps me going underwater. Again, and again.
I’m engulfed by you. You’re the warmest blankest on the coldest winter day. The muse to my dying art. The canvas that resuscitated me into painting the blankness of the walls of my solitude. You brought me out of hiding. Out of darkness into large, beautiful fields of daisies that are looking up each day. Each day that is filled with sunshine and the clouds and rains are happier than they were told to be by their creators.
You’ve created me. Almost from thin air. Almost as if I had no existence, no purpose, before you. But like this gifted sculptor, that only comes around once in a century, you have appeared to remodel me from shapeless clay, into edges of exquisiteness that only appears stunning to me when I see myself through your eyes. Those eyes, they do me in.
What have I done to deserve this unconditionality? This island in shimmering blue waters, far far away from civilization that really isn’t even civil. Because my conversations on this paradise, with you, are all that come close to Utopia. The verbal and silent ones. The times where we don’t even need to speak because our hearts, eyes and souls do. When I wake up in our hut of constant, endless ecstasy. My drug and my meditation is encompassed in you. You seal me, into nothingness and yet so much substance that I feel like I’m walking barefoot on green grass after the morning dew has just touched it. I’m light and weightless because you’re carrying me through life.
You pace me into breakneck speed. It feels like a ride, clinging onto you, zipping through stationary figures and fields and yet sensing an envelope of warmth and safety, like falling through the skies into a safety net that looks like a dreamcatcher.
Stop catching my dreams before I get used to it. I’m scared because I’ve never owned anything so precious, so priceless. Stay. I’ll make mistakes, I’ll fuck up, I’ll have to bite my tongue a hundred times a day. But I’ll mean the look I give you first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. I’ll mean my life that I owe to you hereon. I’ll mean my head on your heart and I’ll mean my eternal love to you in this lifetime and the next.
I love you. Don’t stop loving me.