Two Twenty Two

I want you.
I want you so bad.
I want you so bad it's driving me mad, it's driving me mad.
I want you.
You know I want you so bad, babe.
I want you.
I want you so bad it's driving me mad, it's driving me mad.

When a man knows, man… he knows. John knew. Holy crap did he ever know.

I know. Man oh man do I know. Those words above, that's really enough. They say everything, encapsulating the entire situation. I want you. I'm going mad with the desire. End of story.

But why? You deserve to know. You deserve to know everything.

Let's start where it always starts, whether we want it to or not: you are the single most attractive woman I have seen in my life. I've watched how you've changed over the decade we've known each other, and you've only ever gotten more beautiful. From the lovely young mother in her late 20's, to the astonishing woman who was going on about entering her forth decade a year ago. I've never seen your like, not on TV or the movies, not in a painting or a statue, and certainly not in my real life. If your face were all I got to see for the rest of my life… I would die the happiest man to have ever lived.

But over the years it's gotten so much deeper than that. This isn't only a physical attraction, no. Every conversation we've ever had has been an absolute joy. Every single one, even the mundane stuff. Every tiny tidbit of information just making me love you even more. How you spend your time. What you listen to. What you like to watch. Your overall outlook on life. I love that you love what you do. I love how kind you are. I love your cheesy jokes. I love that “super!” is part of your vocabulary. I love the way you love your kids. I love how I imagine you could love mine. I love how I imagine you'd like to spend a slow weekend afternoon together. I love every moment I have ever spent in your presence. I love how you stalled leaving that last time we talked, right up until 2:22, looking at your watch and murmuring the time just under your breath, just loud enough for me to hear. I love wondering how you figured I'd know what that's all about.

I can't wait until the next time we get to chat. I hope I don't have to wait months or even years for it, as I have in the past. I suspect I won't. I suspect we'll be talking more and more. I hope so. Until next time…