its extremely funny how whenever im with this one specific person, everything else disappears. its like a black hole in itself, with memories and words cascading upon itself. to which it reminds me how small we are. those moments are the ones i love best.
moments where i’m reminded how small i am, looking at the sky could do that to you. it reminds us that we’re light years away from everything we once were, how minuscule we actually are in the grand scheme of things.
you’re like a big dark night sky, i think. as cheesy as that sounds, it feels like something i should say. i get scared to make eye contact sometimes. somewhere along those irises, i could probably stay and not come back. i would find shelter and a blanket and i’d hibernate for a million years. somewhere along the retinas of your dark brown pupils, i find the life long answer of how infinite this world this — the alchemist’s truth.
somewhere along your temples, to the curls overlapping on your head,
the world makes sense.
your existence makes sense, the idea that you’re here with me makes sense. at this very moment, i begin to separate love from possession. that love isn’t about owning, but it’s giving. it gives and gives and gives and it doesn’t go out. that’s how it feels to love you.
it’ll take a lifetime for everyone else to get here. and i couldn’t be more selfish that i have it all to myself in this moment.
