There’s something about the way your words just flow when you speak of what you love that gives me a sense of peace. This is the same kind of peace felt when the Florida wind caresses against my skin on a warm afternoon, and sometimes I like to think your touch is just as gentle and welcoming. Sometimes, convincing myself that your touch is as smooth as the words you use to lure me to you drives away the monster inside seeking what to taunt me with next. Lately, it’s been picking at you, but when you smooth out the bumpy road and just drive, my mind is at peace. The peace growing in this careless mind which I used to call home has a name: Travis; my new home.

There’s something about your eyes; profound, delicate, confidential; they describe you. Just by the gaze of your brown/green eyes, your personality is revealed. And it’s that confidentiality in your stare, and the delicacy in your gaze that gives me security.

I can’t wait for the day that it’s no longer the way you observe people, but the way you hold me that gives me that sense of security. Where it’s no longer the way you talk, but that “Florida wind” impression you give off when your breath strokes against my skin that gives me that same sense of peace. When I’m home and I can rest and hear the music of your heartbeat putting me to sleep. I can’t wait for that day, when I can just put those demons to the side and breathe to the rhythm of the music. Because with your peace and security orbiting my mind, I can finally rest again.