You
tell me about the stars.
About how they are dead, burned out, but light years
away,
they are still alive, lighting up the night sky.
And I don't understand
this, but it's okay.
Sometimes not understanding something adds to its magic.
& I
want to tell you that you are all of the stars in my sky. That you light up my
darkness. That you scare my fears away.
But I
don't.
It's too soon and I don't trust my mouth not to make a mess of this.
What I
also don't tell you is that I love you more than I've ever loved anyone before,
that what I feel for you is so strong, so deep, so overwhelming, that it scares
me, that it's a feeling I would feel
even if
you were
halfway
around the world,
light years
away.
I will
tell you this though.
When love
has stopped being a feeling,
when love
requires sweat and tears and sacrifice,
when love
becomes a choice,
I will
choose you.
Over and
over again, even when the light years come and go,
I will choose you.
I hope you choose me too.
I hope you choose me too.