Innocent Lester | p.l.

ⓥ

Violins and pianos are what I heard when I woke up next to her. Seeing her last night. Loving her. Her loving me.

It's almost midday and she's still asleep. I don't blame her. I've been awake for three hours now and I'm still staring at her. If I move, will she wake? She's too peaceful to risk it.

She takes up so much of my energy, it's like I ran a marathon and it's still going. Love is such a cheesy phrase but you trust the word and meaning because you understand it now that you've lived through it. It suddenly becomes the only thing you know how. At the end of the day, everything else means nothing.

Nothing. Because she's here and I'm here with her and she's here with me... she's my everything.

It's been almost a year.

Not yet, but almost. And it all means nothing because I'm here with her. In love.

This age, this date, my degree, job, future, money, fame. Nothing matters except love and human connection with this person who you love and how deeply you love them. How you touched the people around you and how much you gave them.

My new friends. My new home. Her.

I sighed with overwhelm and her eyes opened. I swear they were a different unknown color of beauty and for a moment I thought I wasn't alive— my chest was tight.

I hate how cheesy I feel but it's too real to deny.