Thursday, November 12, 2015

Is it the little things that make me love you? Yeah, sure, it’s the little things… if by little you mean the monumental details that hold the weight of the world in the core of my soul–the major moments when I don’t expect anything significant and you do something with such care and ease that I stare at your chest knowing I’ve never seen your heart any clearer. It’s the times you’ve kissed my shoulder when no one was watching, the way you look at me when I’m hurting, and how you still answer my endless questions with patience and tact. It’s how you so often respond the exact opposite from how I expect you to, and the way you listen and talk with such transparency and grace–yeah, I love you because of those “little” moments that plant themselves deeply and daily in our story. These “little” things that sprout promising implications, screaming through the silence of my doubts–those “little” things you do–all rippling through my stillness, shattering my hesitations, and holding up my broken weary head with bold handsome hands–sure, it’s the little things that make me love you, but they’re not little at all when I’m on the front lines watching your heart unfold. These little things are massive, because if they were little at all, I wouldn’t have the honor of knowing you so thoroughly. It takes love to know when something little is actually big, you know? So, it’s the big things that make me love you, really. Don’t you see all you are to me? You are proof that life is beautiful because the evidence is constantly blooming from your soul, pouring from your mouth, gripping in your fingers, blinking in your eyes. You make our little moments rumble with color–making little moments not little at all.
— LB

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