You Got Light In Your Eyes

I wanted to share some random thoughts with you, you should read.

You shocked me more than anyone I've ever known. You told me I was safe as you walked me into the darkest part of your life.

We have a shared madness. If you were here, I'd be home.

I wanted to share one of my fond memories of you, with you. I don't think I ever laid it out before, in writing I tried, in gifts I tried, but I never said the words aloud and I never fully explained. It's just a little something I thought you should know.

You should be aware of how happy ya made a gal and some of the good things I thought and still think about ya.

I wanted to tell you about the moment I knew I had fallen in love with you.

It started gradually and not all at once, but I won't forget that exact moment when I knew this was the stuff.

I remember thinking one evening, watching you play the guitar, watching you play one of the first songs you ever wrote about your daughter, one you've seldom played since. I remember vividly being in a translucent, lucid state of mind, almost shivering, thinking, am I falling in love? Is this what it feels like? It wasn't scary until later. It was, at first, so lovely. That was just one Fall evening in September. We still barely knew each other, but I knew what I was feeling, I knew you weren't like anyone else that I'd ever known and I knew I needed to keep going.

Fast forward, nothing you did could be wrong. I knew I was in for the ride, even if my heart hadn't caught up to my head. Everything felt easy and right with you, including every hurdle thrown your way and then our way. That was a scary thought, something we had to deal with, as two, as partners. We both handled everything the only way we knew how, instead of trying to find new ways to approach these unprecedented events. They weren't bad-they were just new.

By that time, I was already in love, you see. So, I'll share with you the moment I knew I loved you.

December 19, 2019 at 9:03pm:

The moment I knew for the first time that I had fallen in love with you, was the minute you sent me your first photo together with your daughter. That's how you described it: "So, here's my first picture with my daughter." You wrote it how I imagined you thought it, so nonchalantly, when that photo was anything but. The way you were looking at your daughter, I knew you had fallen in love with her at first sight and I knew how caught off-guard you were by it. Me too.

It's not that I immediately thought to myself, I want you to look at me like that with the light in your eyes, no. The thought didn't occur to me then. My mind, instead, was occupied with the realization that I wanted to watch you look at your daughter like that for the rest of my life, of our lives, if we could be so lucky.

That's the moment I knew I had fallen in love with you.

And I've got news for you. When you love someone and they leave you, where does the love go? I don't know, because the love for you still lives inside me, with a burning fire, waiting to reignite that dwindling light in your eyes. I don't believe it ever went out, but that it just needs rekindling.

I'm getting sentimental over you.

"Ooh, I got plenty of time.

You got light in your eyes.

Out of all those kinds of people,

you got a face with a view.

Guess that this must be the place."

Love, Me.