The Moon

Our love is beautiful. That’s how I woke up feeling. It was so utterly beautiful from the beginning, the way we spoke to each other, the love letters/emails, the hours spent talking, and it has only become more overwhelmingly so. Last night left me amazed by that. I wrote in my diary this morning, it was one of the most beautiful and profound nights I’ve experienced. And geez, I’ve had too many to count with you. I don’t care if it sounds trite, calling our love beautiful. There’s no halfway point for us, and that is beautiful. It was amazing how we talked last night, I had no knowledge of the passage of time, and everything just flowed instinctively from one thing to another.  

I had a dream last night… And though it ended with you having to leave suddenly without any certainty of when you’d be back, it was the greatest dream I’ve had. I can’t remember it too clearly, but I know it was long and detailed, because a brief dream does not leave traces - I can still feel hints of how I felt having you there, close to me. The dream may not have been real, but the feelings were. I can still feel it. It’s so strange, I miss you doubly. It just shows that though you’re not with me physically, you’re presence is an everyday reality. I catch myself every now and then thinking things like, he’ll be home soon, or we’ll watch this together… and that dream has made it even worse. Today, putting the clothes on the line, I thought about our anniversary and the thought crossed my mind to make reservations. I’m not crazy, I guess I’m just still caught up in the feeling of having your hand on the small of my back.

And though I don’t wake up every morning clutching my sheets because it felt like you had been there, every morning and night for these past ten months I have thought of you and longed for you. 

I need you now