What's interesting to me now is that the deep longing that had been strangling my heart has not stopped. Over time and through stories, seeing it play out in front of my own face, it seemed like it might, or it would lessen. The creeping moonlight in the dark of the room where it's quiet in a way that my heart is mostly content and soft and not to take root here and fantasize about what it would look like if this was what it had always been, because this is all I want. The dull ache that used to live in my ribs has shifted and changed into this excited, red raw thing that can hear bells ring every morning when the sun drifts up into the sky and colours the whole room and him in cool deep blue and gold and I pretend that he doesn't see when it happens. Occasionally the quiet of that kind of morning is ruined and ripped apart by the need to throw pillows at his face, to quietly not see Lobby or Blue tromp into the room and fall on top of him as a good morning. Sometimes he's too much to look at and I had to come to terms quickly with the fact that this is our life and I fall in love all over again, he's so compassionate and patient, how sympathetic and understanding he is. How far he'll go to make sure someone knows that he's figured them out, for better or worse, how selfless and huge his heart is.
I would be remiss to not mention that he's also the acting council to the Queen and has saved our whole country from several raiders and attempts for war with the neighboring lands, he also does a very convincing rendition of Lost in the Woods, but I don't know if I'm supposed to know about that given that it's usually happening under the strict confidence of her majesty, but it's the sweetest thing in the world, but that could be due to the fact that he's just so present and aware of what's going on in Nora's world and it's just everything.
Falling in love with him from far away was effortless, but learning how to navigate it after deciding that it never had to be anything else was easily one of the hardest things I've done in my life, because either I wouldn't let myself or five feet could turn into highways and then several states between, but the difficulty never made it fade, sometimes I think it made it worse. I don't remember the first time we kissed, technically, officially it's a different day but every so often he'll get this look about him when it comes up in conversation and my heart sinks every time. That there was a time in my life where that could happen and I couldn't remember the softness of his mouth or the sharp tilt of his teeth, how we forget to breathe together. Because that's the thing right, he's smart and he's funny and he smells good and he's driven and usually actually incredibly reasonable, and I would live and die kissing him. All of that rambling to say that I am never going to be able to quantify how much I love you, what I wouldn't do to keep you safe and happy and warm. That you deserve every good thing that happens, that you know how important and kind you truly fucking are. I never want to know a day in the world without you.
