I fell in love with the morning, how you stumbled out of bed when you first woke up, and how your eyes groaned with exhaustion.
The way your hands grasped my hips while your lips stole the ending of my sentences. Every day with you felt like a month of Sunday mornings with white bed sheets and lazy smiles.

The walk home from your room made me remember what Monday mornings feel like.

Somewhere between falling in love with our midnight conversations that were interrupted by soft kisses and pokes in the ribs, and reading the love notes you wrote on my skin.
I realized,
I am in love with the presence of your words and the feel of your existence.

I am in love with you.