You Are Real

I think every day I love her more.

I’ve only ever seen her twice; beheld her once.

It’s the way those eyes of hers look, they’re beautiful. Absolutely unexplainable. They’re like storms encased in glass orbs, but when you look into them, you feel much calmer. The Universe does a pretty good job of evenly distributing assets. Thank you, Universe, for blessing me with a Guardian so pleasing to the eyes.

But honestly, I think every day I love her more and more.

I could care less about how I barely see her, even when it gives me the worst ache inside thinking about how it would be better if she were right next to me, but it would be the nicest thing maybe to have her next to me.

It would be nice to have her next to me when I tell her jokes she wouldn’t even understand;

To have her next to me when I’m bawling my eyes out over another sappy novel;

To have her next to me and listen to the hundred and one ways I know how to eat ice cream;

To have her next to me when I need somebody.

It would be nice to have her next to me, hands in each other’s, instead of having to constantly yell out in the open, waiting for a flash of light