Dear you,

*click on images for bigger ones*

I biked 40 minutes to get to this spot. It was a little tiring but nothing compared to when I saw the bench in front of me.

You. And me. We will sit here one day.

We will sit here and hold hands and whisper sweet nothings into each others ears and no one will give a damn.

We will sit at this very bench and we will look out onto the amazing view of this forsaken place. Quiet. A few cars will zoom by but nothing will interrupt our gaze of this slice of heaven.

 
As I hold your hand, you will snuggle in the crook of my neck and we won’t say a word. We will only look out and gaze as the waters below us, the skies above us and the green serenity of the wilderness around us.

One day, it won’t just be me sitting on the bench. I’ll have you by my side, my dear. If only I close my eyes, I can catch your scent in the air. The scent of home. Where I’ve longed to be.

Where you’ll sit there and your hair will smell of fresh shampoo and errant strands will tickle my cheeks, my nose and we’ll just sigh and lean into each other’s presence, each other’s familiarity, each other’s softness.

In that quiet, we’ll finally understand what they mean by best friends not having to say anything and still having the greatest conversation in the world. That love is not just purely a physical or a sexual attraction but it is also one of emotion and spirituality. That holding hands or feeling your warmth seep into my skin doesn’t necessarily signal a prelude to raunchy, wild, abandon later between the sheets. Its just you. And me. Existing for the pure sake of existence.

They talk of love being sweet and pure and gentle and kind. This is it.

And in our silence, we’ll watch the sunrays slowly fade behind us, splashing its last lights onto the river.

You’re my angel, you know that?

My miracle.

Wherever you are out there, I’m thinking of you. And I can’t wait to look into your eyes and know that you are mine.

Love,
Me.

P.S. Work sucks. Bleh.