Loving Her

Loving her.

Well. . .

Loving her is such a profoundly beautiful experience that the following words could not even begin to do justice and paint a picture that encapsulates such a feeling.

Loving her is like breathing pure, clean oxygen whilst simultaneously being underwater.

It is like curling yourself up next to a crackling fireplace when a storm rages outside,

so heavily that you can feel the tremors of the thunder and hear the constant downpour of the rain.

It is finding yourself transfixed by a piece of art,

gazing at it with such intensity that you can describe every fine detail and nuance.

It is waking up before sunrise and staying awake well past the sunset.

It is seeing the beauty of life and thus embracing all of its idiosyncrasies and complexities,

the beautiful and the tragic,

the light and the dark,

the pleasurable and the painful.

It is admiring the buds and blooms of the roses

and also loving their thorns.

It is feeling comforted as the waves gently lap against your feet as you stand at the shoreline

and knowing that past that shoreline is a current that could very easily pull you under.

But, loving her is also the soft and gentle things, too.

It is the cup of coffee with breakfast,

and the chamomile tea with warmed milk and honey to help you sleep.

It is the lingering scent of spices in the kitchen

and the perfume of vanilla on your clothes.

It is the soft way in which she speaks Español,

replacing a simple “I love you,” with “Te amo mucho, mi corazón,”

and “I’m getting sleepy” with “Creo que podría estar cansándome.”

It is waking up alone and knowing that it is only because she is in the next room, allowing you the chance to sleep while she may feel restless.

It is finding her in that room and gently lifting her up into your arms to bring her back into your bed.

It is all of this, and so much more.

It is a feeling you will never forget.