Love Everlasting

I love us. I love our love. I love it all. The way I love your musky cologne and the way you love my enchanting perfume. The way you look in color. The exciting look on your face when something good happens to you. The even more exciting look on your face when something good happens to me. The vegetarian burritos and our obsession with black beans and brown rice. The laughter about absolutely nothing while lying in my bed. The memories on Acre Drive. The way you look in your golden chevrolet. The way people perceive us, the way we really are. The love I see in your eyes every time I drown in doubt and the way you always carry me to the shore. The evening movie tickets hiding at the back of our wallets. The joy we get when we see a large buttery popcorn tub in front of us. The monumental window in the small living room, watching us grow for years. The way we eat everything with sriracha. The dreams we have, the ambition we have to achieve those dreams. The way your desk is like a collection of memories, like a collection of your thoughts. The way you notice when I paint my nails or get a new dress. The way you love listening to my stories. The way you loved me through my awkward, chubby phase, and the way I loved you through your awkward, chubby phase. The way you know when I’m napping and the way I know when you’re at work. The way I get annoyed when you never stop singing. The drives all around town, looking for something new. The way you are incredibly patient with me through my anxiety. The places we’ve traveled together. The places we will travel together. The realization that love isn’t always perfect, but in my eyes, our love is. The excessive amount of money we’ve spent on coffee and soft pretzels. The way you understand how I’m always overdramatic. The way we don’t even understand how we got so close. The way you look in glasses and that navy blue polo. The walks through green forests, the transcendentalists inside of us. The deep conversations of the past, the small talk of now, the laughter of then, the silence of later. The way we are always together even when we are apart physically. The peaceful Cleveland autumn evenings, the windy Chicago summer mornings. The way we love similar aesthetics. The way you’re not very smart but you speak of more wisdom than anyone I know. The way we talk in weird accents and voices more than our actual voice and simply cannot get enough of it. The times you surprised me with soup, flowers, and sweaters. The dances we have together, sentimental and silly. The way we would purposely try to make each other jealous in 6th grade. The way we are not high school sweethearts, but elementary school sweethearts. The way we’ve always been so comfortable around each other. The way you bring out the best, hidden parts of me. The way people and things have come and gone out of our life, yet we’ve always been constant. The way your eyes light up when you do something you’re incredibly passionate about. The times we’ve performed on stage together, the times we’ve watched the stage together. The way I wake up every morning with hope because I know I’ll get to see you. The nightly phone calls. The way we found ourselves within each other. The way we both act like shy schoolgirls around each other. The Seinfeld moments. The poems you wrote for me, the poems I wrote for you. The times you tried to be romantic but accidentally adorably messed up. The way you hate when I wear lipstick because you can’t kiss me without wearing lipstick as well. The way I can’t remember how my life was before you. The way we are always thinking of each other in everything we do, the way everything reminds us of one another. The nights in watching television. The way we walk towards each other in a hallway full of people, but see only each other, smiling uncontrollably. The way we love taking photographs of our life. The way we crave Paris but didn’t learn much in French class. The sense of independence we feel when we go out alone. The wanderlust we feel, the way we want to leave this town. The days we would get away with sleepovers. The way we would feel like we were in our own little world, just us and the dark. The way we’ve instantly gravitated towards each other when we met. The way we were best friends before we dated. The way everyone knew we would end up together like it was destined. The white sheets, the hotel rooms, the subway rides. The way we are always holding hands. The way you are afraid of ducks. The time you got on one knee with a daisy and asked if I would be with you forever. The way we can sit together in silence for hours. The way all I’ve ever wanted was to fall in requited love with you. The way my 11:11 wish came true. The way I knew from the moment I met you: I am nothing without you. The way time means nothing to us, even after seven years. The way we know our love is ethereal, celestial, divine, and for the Creator’s design. The way we are like two flames burning as one. The way we know we are the lucky ones. The way I sense eternity in your eyes, the way you sense eternity in my eyes. The way we mirror each other, the way we are two individuals existing as one. The way we never believed in anything until we met each other. The fact that I love you, you love me, and it will always be that way for eternity. Immaculately beautiful, breathtaking, and full of infinite love. At last.

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