Pillow talk

The other night while laying in bed we reminisced about the excitement of seeing each other when we had first met, waiting in anticipation for our first "real" kiss, the sudden flow of adrenalin every time we received a text from the other. It wasn’t that long ago that his love notes, written on old torn up pieces of cardboard, sent a surge of tingles erupting within me, or when stealing a kiss on the porch of brookside made us soar into a high that should have been illegal. At times it feels like a dream. But would I trade that for the serenity of falling asleep every night with your arms around me tight? Trade it for the confidence, trust, and support we recieve from each other as we battle through this sweet, but sometimes unforgiving world? Trade it for the comfort and love that comes when i have broken down completely with uncontrollable feelings of failure and dissapointment? If I could interchange another first glance, first touch, first hello for a second of what we have now, I would not take it.

It is funny, and sometimes surreal how love effects us, as humans. The first initial jolts of "love" (more like infatuation), and then the deep, sometimes hard, exhausting love. What I would not do for Ben.

In the 5 and a half years of being with you, I still feel those initial tingles but in a much deeper, more meaningful sense. I am deeply, madley, insanely in love with you. I really would not ever trade a day of what we have now to a day of what we had then.