It's hard to write about love without feeling extremely cheesy.
I woke up and found your hand still resting on my leg, reaching out for me. The moment we became conscious, we were giggling to each other. It's like waking up from a sleepover with my best friend. Well, it is that, isn't it?
There's two empty wine glasses on the nightstand, two spoons resting on the counter waiting for the next late night ice cream craving, two toothbrushes on the shelf. These doubles are a glimmer of hope, in some small way. I am scared to believe in more, in mine becoming ours someday, but I can't help it. I don't know what's coming, but I know I hope you're there.
I love seeing your shoes by my bedroom door, your suit coat draped over the hook on my wall. You left them here when you left this morning to go to work, you know you'll be back for them later.
To find someone who is supportive and loving and accepting and patient and willing to try, is maybe the luckiest thing in the world. It's not something that just happens of course, it takes effort every single day. But I'm thankful for chances and trying and love that is not always easy, but always worthwhile.
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