Sometimes I’m tired of writing about the feeling of love, but then I remember lips on my forehead, your fingers through mine as we walk underneath the sunshine. I remember your eyes so light and uplifting gently gazing at me with adoration and I wonder if damn… might this ever be…
Then I hear your voice reminding me that I am special and it affirms what I already know of you, that I like you for more than who you are, but also for what you represent, what you stand for. I love that you are heavy with convictions, yet sometimes budge when I challenge you and it makes me smile to know that together there is never a boring moment. I could sit there with you with my head on your shoulder and my fingers running through your chest and arms as I listen to your soft voice in the night.
Here I thought that I was done writing stories about love.
hellenbarroso 