Love

I think about what love is… what it means to love a person, in all of the different ways a person can love…

And I wonder how it is that I've come to love you, so deeply, so thoroughly, when the truth remains that I don't really know you, not really.

But, is that really true?

We first met a decade ago. We didn't start spending very much time together until the past couple of years, but we talked from time to time. Sometimes for an hour or more, just shooting the breeze. Always so easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And, I have been surprised by you. I don't know if I'd be so intrigued if I hadn't been. But those surprises have never done anything except make me love you more. Only ever reaffirmed the image I have of you in my mind.

Yes, there's still so much I need to learn about you, but I have your basic shape. A sketch of the outermost curves and lines of your personality.

And it is beautiful, just like the curves and lines of your face, of your body.

And, isn't that where all love starts? The first time a couple says the words, isn't that all they really know? Isn't it possible, given how long I've known you, that my sketch is even more filled out than that? Isn't it possible that my sense that I could spend the rest of my life with you likely to be truth?

Yes, I don't know you anywhere near as well as I should like to, but I love you, my love. Just as I expect to love you for the rest of my days, no matter what happens between us.

You have my heart, my star. I hope you'll take my hand, as well, some day.

Yours, forever.