It's hard to put into words; that tightening of emotion you can feel deep inside your stomach.
I mistook it for nausea.
But now I realize it only happens when I see him.
I can't say I'm in love, but I know I'm getting there. My last post explained my doubts about a future with him, and oh how wrong I was.
I make him happy. He told me so himself. The happiest he has ever been, and I made it that way. My presence helps him to fight his insomnia. We kiss, we hold each other. He makes me happy! There are moments when I'm driving home alone and I picture his silly expressions and a smile so big stretches across my face.
I like to listen to his heart beat. It means he's alive and healthy and real, and that I'm not dreaming this. When I hear his heart thump in his chest beauty only comes to mind.
It's soppy and gushy, I know, but that stems from my love for the human body and how beautiful I find the human heart to be. And the fact that I have his heart all to myself excites me.
His lips are very soft. He uses Burt's Bees chapstick, and I can smell the fresh peppermint when he kisses my forehead. Sometimes my lips share the fresh tingling the chapstick offers.
I need to stop this.
Because now I miss him even more. Obviously. I wouldn't be writing a sappy blog post about my love life if I were to currently be with him. How silly of me would that be?