My love, I think of you and I’m reminded of the little things in life – the snug and fuzzy feeling of being wrapped inside the covers, the first sip of coffee in the morning, and the familiar smell of the pages of an old book. You know, the things that seem trivial but when added up make life more worthwhile and meaningful.
You remind me of life back in the glory days – those golden years when the only thing I’m terrified of was monsters under the bed. You are my lazy afternoon with the last few rays of sunlight piercing through the windows, and that jazz from the radio embracing the room with its comforting nostalgia.
My love for you can be as fierce as fire – wild, blazing and dangerous. The intensity is too much it engulfs me. But sometimes, love, it’s as light and easy as a flying leaf; like a feather caressing a baby’s face, or a distant sound of a church bell muffled by the wind and the singing of the birds. It’s tranquil and quiet but never absent; like the way there’s always water in the ocean.
You give me all the right emotions and a good dose of caffeine and serenity. You are home, my love, and I always find you.