Let's start our life. Let's go buy little home in a small town with a white picket fence and front porch swing. Let's have neighbors that only know me by your last name. You can be the town policeman, and handyman on the weekends and I can write for the newspaper, and make poetry about you. We'll spend our days loving each other, making big jars of sweet tea, trying to cook with fresh fruits and vegetables from our garden out back and going to the one Dairy Queen in town when we fail miserably. Let's laugh at our mistakes over chocolate dipped cones. Let's melt away afternoons dancing barefoot through our kitchen, and evenings camping in our backyard. Let's paint the house blue, and then repaint it because of how many times it led to making love on an empty bedroom floor. Let's buy vanilla scented candles from the grandmotherly figure up the road. Let's do it. You and me. And one day, I will be in the kitchen making a sandwich in one of your sweatshirts, and I'll come into the room to find you sitting on the floor. I won't ask, but give a half laugh and slide down beside you, quietly, so as not to break the daze you're in, and I'll join whatever world you've gone into. As we sit in silence, you can hear the soft pitter of rain on our roof. We'll look at each other with peace, and I'll mirror the smile you're beginning to show, because we know. We have it. You will grab me and spin me around until we collapse and laugh in sheer giddiness. We'll eat our sandwiches right there on the floor and fall into an afternoon nap. And it will all truly be, alright. Can you imagine living in that high of a frequency, in blissful euphoria with the love of you and your soulmate that God himself put in you, surrounding you wholly?