Today we spent all day in your basement playing games on the Xbox and ******* endlessly. Maybe, though, ******* isn't the right term anymore. When we have *** now, it's more like making love, and, god, I don't use that term lightly because I actually hate it, but when our bodies are connected I feel it. I feel it deep in my bones that you love me, even in the simple things: the kisses, the smiles and all the goofy banter. It doesn't have to be said (yet), we both know.

When you nibble my ears, or hold my face in your hands, or wrap your arms around my waist while we spoon, I know that I've found my place. I heard God in every breath you take, in every hearty laugh. Your forest eyes scream my name every time you look at me; tranquil seas of green and yellow gazing at me like I'm the most beautiful being you've ever seen. You touch me so gently, like I'm something so delicate I might not be real.

I've never known anyone quite like you.