I thought I loved you before, but christ was I wrong. I know what it is, now, to love you. It’s wanting the ability to touch things- dull, irrelevant, everyday things, and want to feel your skin, instead of their gruff, ugly texture. A pencil, a piece of paper, a car hood, grain of wood. Nothing will ever feel as pure as you do now… not to me. You are everything I have wanted for so long, and so much more that I didn’t realize you were. Love is only a part of it… I admire you, adore you, am constantly proud of you.
