I used to think songs and poems and stories could express and state my feelings for you. But there are no lyrics or rhymes to fully express them – not even the words I’ve written before and will write for as long as I can. And yet I will always try my hardest to come as close to perfection as I possibly can. Reaching it isn’t the goal; it’s the process. The process of loving you. The process of spending a day with you. The process of working all day to come home and fall asleep next to you. The process of waking up beside you. That is perfection.
You give me security. I was never secure with myself and my feelings and had an exhausting list of inhibitions until i met you. Now, the sound of your voice can set my whole day a light. I find myself staying up all night (as I am now) because I didn’t hear your voice that day and I try with every ounce of power I have in my brain and ears to at least imagine that rich, smoky and velvety voice of yours. It’s also the times you wake up in the middle of the night and think of me enough to send me a little message. It means more to me than you will ever know.
It was really great to spend our anniversary together, not only because it was the first one we spent together, but because of how much fun we had. I don’t remember laughing so much in a day and I don’t recall you laughing as you did. It culminated in the moment you accidentally stepped on the back of my foot while I tried nudging you into Victoria’s Secret. The laugh that followed, and the subsequent cookie crumbs that flew out of your mouth made me laugh so damn hard. I fell completely in love with you again at that moment.
Of course, it wasn’t without a lowlight; when you injured your finger. I begged you to take care of it straight away, but you denied me at every turn. Finally, you allowed me to do it myself. I don’t know what came over me. It’s not like I’m a doctor or junior surgeon or enterprising biology student or anything, but I suppose the hours I spent in the trainer’s office in high school due to countless muscle contusions and sprains from playing football came in handy when I bandaged you up. I don’t know if you did, but I almost felt you looking at me as I wrapped the gauze and tape around your fingers. That made me feel a way I’ve never felt before. For once, I felt strong.
Strong in the sense that you trusted me to take care of you. On a purely physical level, I was just doing a job in making sure your wound would stay clean. But it meant much more to me than that. I saw it as one of the first steps in the life we will lead together; I would take care of you and patch up your wounds. It was part of the process.
One day I will feel the strongest man in the world because of you. That day will be when I say good night and not good bye. And good morning instead of hello. Sometimes I know I’m overbearing, but I promise it won’t always be like this. I am just trying to fill the void in not being able to see you and know where you are. When we share the same home together, I will ease myself knowing that you are doing all right because your head will rest on my chest every night.
Quite the feeling that is.
I love you.
