Trying to write about this day is when I became immobilized. I'm not a great writer, I write from my heart, I try to write about my life, my passions, love, and the most important person in the world to me.
I can intellectualize with the best of them, but it's not what these diary posts are about. The intellectual stuff is what I save for other posts and where you usually hear my opinions loud and clear.
Writing from the heart? There are limits, our privacy. There are days when I want to shout out and celebrate to anyone listening. So what does this writer do who speaks from his heart? He moves carefully as not to compromise our relationship, or our lives. This past week I got stuck, stuck on "day three - something handwritten".
I tried writing about that night. It was a night of exchanging love letters, intimate thoughts, words of passion, and promises of a love affair to last forever. But there's nothing I could possibly write that could come close to what happened between us that evening.
The moments of silence as we read each other's letters, his face, eyes filled with tears. It was so much more than just being in love. That evening we met each other once again, but it was in a whole new place, somewhere we've never been before.
That night our relationship was time capsuled and sealed forever. Love was no longer limited to the heart and soul. And even as I'm writing this this post I can feel him throughout me. Steven says that when he's alone he can close his eyes and feel as though I'm right next to him.
If you were to ask me right now what love feels like, I'd give you my hand and ask you to hold it; because I want you to know, even if it's just for a moment.