My favorite part about you (besides the freckle on the right side of your bottom lip) is the way you make me feel. That sounds, cheesy, but really it's a purely selfish sentiment. I'm so used to numbness and complacency--it's wonderful to have that small thrill every time I look at you or think about you. Even when we fight (it happens), just being able to be full-on out-of-control angry without analyzing or trying to ignore it is a rush. It's a rush just to be able to feel at all. I love you for that.
No holds barred, no compromises. Just pure energy that propels me forward and wakes me up in the morning, even when you aren't the first thing I see when opening my eyes. It inspires me.
Thank you.
-
I secretly love mornings.
I love fumbling around for my underwear in the dark and smoking that first cigarette and taking that first sip of coffee and shivering the dreams out of my head.
I love the sun's palette of
reds and
oranges and
the deepest
blue of the day.
(It's even better when you're there with me:
the warmth
and kisses
even the sore muscles I get from sleeping on that too-small bed
and that smile that hints at our adventures in dreamland, even if we don't
remember them.)
Remember the day we spent under the trees? It felt like morning. Calm. Quiet. Filled with such a quiet potential through the birds and the way your fingers found mine (which we didn't dare acknowledge). I never wanted that day to end. Luckily it hasn't. I relive it every morning with that first cigarette and the colors of sunrise and the way your fingers find mine before I've even opened my eyes.
I love mornings.
