The wind howls a mournful song that makes the once-tall trees shudder with fear. Rain gently falls upon the now-sleeping town. I sit by the lake sheltered from the starlit sky by the outstretched arms of the willow tree. I watch. I wonder. I listen. I'd explain to you how I'm feeling--what I'm thinking--but I wouldn't know where to begin. You sit beside me, my hand in yours. Whisper in my ear with the voice of an angel--quiet, soothing, like a song. I'd say you make me happy, for this is true. I'd say you make me smile even if the world was to fall apart. I look at you now, still by my side--still trying to pick me apart piece by piece and figure me out. My heart skips a beat when I look at you. To know you are mine tickles me pick with butterflies. And that's how it feels. It's not quite clear but it is true. You are simply my everything. You are my happiness, my tears, my anger, my dreams. We sit there together, by the lake, in the rain. I think of all the things you make me feel but the truth is you are my everything.
My Letter to Him
June 25, 2011