A confession: I did not read last night like I said I would, after you fell asleep. I was going to, I swear, but I could not take my eyes from you. The curve of your bare shoulder, the arch of your neck, the coils of your dark hair piled upon the pillow… I could not look away from such beauty. I never thought something as simple as the meeting of copper skin and black hair at the nape of your neck could fill me with such painful, glorious longing. I never thought I’d want to run my fingers along the curled shell of someone’s ear; to press my palm to warm, silky flesh and feel heartbeat beneath, and the gentle rising, falling of slumbering breath. In these moments my love for you feels overwhelming, like it has filled me completely and must spill over as laughter or tears or something, anything, I can’t contain it all. I live for these moments, you know. I live for any moment with you.