November 30th, 1991
It’s been a long wait and a cold winter, but now you’re here.
All the time I’ve been waiting for you, I wondered what to say. Maybe it was never a big deal, but I couldn’t help but rehearse it in my head. How are you? How have you been? I don’t know, really. None of it feels quite right.
In the end a great big hug seemed to suffice. I love you, you know? But I’m a fool, and I always have been. I’m much too much in my head, even with you around. Especially with you around. Somehow, you don’t seem to mind. Even if I never say it, I’m grateful.
It’s shocking how quiet I get around you. It’s true, I hardly ever know what to say, but even still you seem to welcome my silence. We walk hand in hand, admiring the atmosphere, wondering what’s in store for us. You inspire within me the desire to come up with our own traditions. Regarding that, however, I don’t seem to be so creative.
You often ask me to sing you a song, although I feel that you’re just humoring me. I feel quite free singing for you. Maybe to you it means all the words I never say. All the thoughts you never hear.
I get quite excited for the simple things. Grocery shopping together, washing the car, doing work around the house, and just about anything else. It’s a wonder that another person’s presence can have that affect on me. You’re the only peace I’ve ever known.
You make the cold very warm. I want to drown in your world. I suffer with every breath taken without you around. My mind turns like a carousel, all with thoughts of you.
But enough about me; what about you? Aren’t you well? Are you warm? Would you like to go home? We could take a bath. I would love to wash your hair. Would you like to eat? Tell me what’s on your mind, even if it’s nothing at all.
I don’t really feel like I say it enough…
I love you, you know?
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