Remember? Last Summer

What feels warmer than the bed I sleep in, are the arms that keep me sheltered. As though, in perfect unity, we can manage to speak flawlessly without sound. In the early hours of a morning, both lacking in sleep but profoundly captivated by the sound of each other breathing, we lay restless. Your hand rests on my hip, and your forehead is pressed against mine.

You whisper, "I love you."

It is cold, and we can hear the birds waking up, slight rain hitting the garage door. But that isn't why we are awake.

I know why I am awake, and I am still unsure as to why you are. The thoughts that cross my mind as we lay awake at four in the morning involve all my precious moments with you.

I can see your eyes in the darkness staring intently as me. I can't stop wondering how we got to this point where I feel that saying "I love you," just isn't enough anymore. Where this all began six months ago, and here we are. I can't fathom my life without you anymore. You are my future.

Once upon a time, I had built these walls. I was on one side, and you on the other. That is how I lived comfortably for so long, knowing I was protected and I wouldn't let you hurt me. But you proved me wrong. You tore down the wall, and I let you. I wanted to let you in. And once I did, I couldn't look back because everything I want, you have.

All my fears dissipated and in their place you stood, providing a wave of warmth and security. The feeling of protection drove out all the doubt and insecurities I may have had. A feeling of wholeness washes over me each time we twine hands, where I feel a tiny part of me could explode because such happiness cannot be contained.

Each step of the way you have held me close, and close enough that I can hear your heart beating. Close enough that when you wrap your arms around me, and everything around us falls silent, that in those moments I know I'm enough. I know you're my future.

"I love you," cannot speak the volumes of the waves that crash down when I have such a passionate emotion that can't be explained. It isn't the celebration of loving, nor being loved. Perhaps the unity and intensity, the trust and beauty of us is what I'm truly celebrating when I love you.

I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. There is no one I could ever trust like how I trust you. Nor provide the company you do. I know I joke a lot with you, but when I say you're the best thing that has ever happened to me, I should be saying I see a future with you in it.

You're mine; my fishy. My human who cannot swim, who wakes up grumpy in the morning, but won't fall asleep until the end of the movie. Who can't go out without his hair done unless he is rushing and needs to always be wearing jeans when he goes out. Who cannot keep a room clean, but will try persistently to help nonetheless. Where his life lives precariously between financial debt and financial boredom - when there is no in between. The human who hates to be argued wrong when he is right, but will argue until proven otherwise. The one quick to apologise, attempt silent treatments and snuggle first. The first to notice who had a bad day, and tries significantly to improve it. The tired headbutt when he's tired but a sorrowed look of wanting to escape trouble. The thoughtfulness and generosity that reaches beyond description, and a strong sense of morality defining a man well worth beyond his age. Almost traditional, with a quaint touch of boyish immaturity and a laugh that sounds like a child. Eyes that have an endless blue. A smile that is so contagious, my chest tightens every time.

Sometimes, I love you isn't enough.

But it is just enough to let you know I am yours.