Zoning out at Work Vibes

Everything comes out Wrong

When I speak, it sounds like everything you have already heard

When I try to tell my wife how much I love her, It sounds like I have swallowed every love poem and vomited up the best parts of them, all out of order.

I want to compare you to the snow and tell you how you make everything dim compared to your light.

I want to say you make me feel peaceful. Like if you were the ocean under a full moon, gentle waves lapping at the shore.

I want to tell you how rare it is to find someone I do not want to compare myself to.

I want to pamper you. To sing you lullabies and read you to sleep. 

I want to make dinner for you and take you out on weekly date nights. 

I want to give you an in-ground pool, a big house, and well-trained dogs you cannot help but love.

I want to give you genius, and well-behaved children.

Exactly two. Two, equally loved children who like the outdoors and who aren't addicted to screens.

I want to homeschool them for you and buy you fancy clothes.

I want to edit and proofread your stories so you don't have to.

I want to wake up before you to make your coffee and breakfast. I want to pack you lunch for work.

I want my every move to be for you, and I never want to stop moving.

I kept breathing because you asked me to, and now I breathe for you, because of you.

My darling, my love, my angel, mia vita, my reason for life and living. I am obsessed.

I have an unhealthy attachment style and you let me get away with it.

There are too many things to thank you for, so, instead of saying it, I will show you how thankful you make me.