It never ceases to amaze me-
how excited my dog gets to see me
every single time she sees me.

It doesn't matter if it's been thirty minutes or three days-
she jumps into the air and licks my face with such urgency;
greeting me like a long-lost child who hasn't seen their parent in years.

If only you would get as excited to see me as my dog is
every time she sees me.

You and I could take over the world if we wanted to.
We don't, but we could.
We'd plant daisies in everyone's mailboxes and tack love stories to every door.
We'd play music in the streets and dance on the roofs of every high-rise office building in every city.
Every panhandler on every corner would hold a sign that says, "hello, world. What a pleasure it is to see you smile." as five-dollar bills overflow from their coffee mugs.

What a difference it would make, ruling the world with love instead of fear.

I don't know why He whispers in my ear
But not yours.

But I do know that every time I get discouraged
Or afraid of what your damaged hearing might mean for us,
The wind brushes my hair to cheek,
Stealthily delivering His message:
"This is not by chance.
You did not stumble into each others' lives by mistake.
I made you for him and him for you
And threw you into each other like gasoline into the fires that burn within your souls.
You will make mistakes," He says to me
"You cannot be perfect. But you can try. I know how hard you already do. Just be there for each other, let Me be there for you, and
Keep
On
Going."

You asked me to write more poetry.
"Remember that one you wrote for me when we first started dating?
I read it all the time,
It was so beautiful."
"That was an anomaly,"
I retort.
"I do not write poetry; I get tattoos and haircuts. I stretch my earlobes and dress funny. I buy signs from homeless people; that is my art."
My eloquence is nonexistent,
I do not carry the right kind of pain with me
Nor do I have enough beautiful thoughts
to write good poetry.
The only thing I could spurt out for you
Is only 15 lines long.
A pitiful piece of work.

I learned on the Saturday I met you that "love at first sight" is a serious illness.
It infects the body and consumes it whole, leaving nothing but happiness and affection in place of the empty, hopeless shell it once was.
I learned on Tuesday that good music and Star Wars references assist the speeding up process of a first kiss,
And just how good knowing that it would be your last first kiss ever felt.
On Wednesday, I learned how hard it was not to say "I love you" out loud.
Instead, I resorted it to silently mouthing the phrase when your head is turned.
On Thursday, I learned that you like to swirl the New York Cheesecake and Red Velvet Cake flavors of frozen yogurt, just like I do.
It reminded me of the concept of being soulmates. Our secret dance reminded me of a movie from the 1920s. Thank you, Louis Armstrong, and the lake in San Angelo for providing the perfect atmosphere.
I learned on Friday how easy it is to talk to the person you love for seven hours.
I also learned that I don't care how tired I look in the first photograph we took together, because I've been a different person since last Saturday.
On the second Saturday that I met you, I learned how hard it is to watch a movie alone with you while your lips are so close to mine.
I learned a lesson on willpower, and also that it's easier if we watch movies in theaters. But even theaters can't keep us from sneaking kisses every once in  a while.
That day I learned how easy it is to dance beautifully with the soulmate you've known only for a week.
I also learned that I'm not the only person who sees the beauty I see when we are together. I glanced over your shoulder during the Jimi Hendrix guitar solo, only to see our group of friends staring at us in awe. It didn't distract me from the butterflies I had from your arm being around me.
Later that same night, I learned how anxious I feel, slipping love notes into your pocket, and saying goodbye, if only for two weeks.

That week, I learned that two Saturdays is all it takes to make you certain of whom you want to spend the rest of your life with.

I learned on the Saturday I met you that "love at first sight" is a serious illness.
It infects the body and consumes it whole, leaving nothing but happiness and affection in place of the empty, hopeless shell it once was.
I learned on Tuesday that good music and Star Wars references assist the speeding up process of a first kiss,
And just how good knowing that it would be your last first kiss ever felt.
On Wednesday, I learned how hard it was not to say "I love you" out loud.
Instead, I resorted it to silently mouthing the phrase when your head is turned.
On Thursday, I learned that you like to swirl the New York Cheesecake and Red Velvet Cake flavors of frozen yogurt, just like I do.
It reminded me of the concept of being soulmates. Our secret dance reminded me of a movie from the 1920s. Thank you, Louis Armstrong, and the lake in San Angelo for providing the perfect atmosphere.
I learned on Friday how easy it is to talk to the person you love for seven hours.
I also learned that I don't care how tired I look in the first photograph we took together, because I've been a different person since last Saturday.
On the second Saturday that I met you, I learned how hard it is to watch a movie alone with you while your lips are so close to mine.
I learned a lesson on willpower, and also that it's easier if we watch movies in theaters. But even theaters can't keep us from sneaking kisses every once in  a while.
That day I learned how easy it is to dance beautifully with the soulmate you've known only for a week.
I also learned that I'm not the only person who sees the beauty I see when we are together. I glanced over your shoulder during the Jimi Hendrix guitar solo, only to see our group of friends staring at us in awe. It didn't distract me from the butterflies I had from your arm being around me.
Later that same night, I learned how anxious I feel, slipping love notes into your pocket, and saying goodbye, if only for two weeks.

That week, I learned that two Saturdays is all it takes to make you certain of whom you want to spend the rest of your life with.