I love him from the very depths of my heart. The heart that pumps blood through my veins now carries a love as powerful as it is luminous, as strong as it is delicate, rushing through my veins and filling my senses. It dances like butterflies and crashes like waves in thunderstorms. It rages like jungle fever and burns like eternal fire. Sometimes calmer, sometimes soft. Then a look in his eyes, a gesture, and I am overtaken with it, this total surrender to the pure essence of another. His heart, his love. We are magnets, reflecting each other’s innocence, mirroring each other’s seas. I see his weakness, I feel his fear. I fall where he is strong, I stand tall where he would hide. He is a rock, whole and unchanging, while I am air, tempestuous and turbulent.
To love him is light in darkness, a darkness in which I am no longer alone. It is lucidity in chaos. It is to feel an emotion so strongly it becomes tangible, a physical reality, a pressure emanating from my solar plexus which both grounds me and draws the weight from my bones, fixing me to the earth and freeing me to soar with wings light as air but strong as steel. No longer drowning, I am only made braver by the waves which crash over me. He will never let me drown, I know this to be true. His love, more than a beacon, more than a siren or a song in a storm. It is lucent, effulgent, radiant. It is energy, it is spirit.
He will never let me drown.
To love this man is to dream every dream at once, to feel the breath of divine creation whispering in my ears. It is the realisation of hopes almost lost. It is a gift from stars wished upon so many long years.
To love this man is the true spirit of joy.