No matter what happens during the day,
I think about how I'll tell you.
And everything I do,
I want you to see.

I often think of how we walk.
My hand on your left side,
yours resting on my shoulders.

Or how we sit.
Two bottles of wine on the table.
We talk untill the tears are no longer able to wash away with alcohol.
And than you do not comfort me.
As you and I both know,
I find comfort in just being there
with you.

Sometimes I quickly think of you.
Sometimes in bed,
on a party,
always shortly in the kitchen.
And I know I won't be finished living,
untill there's someone loving me
the same amount I love you now.