I watched a movie once that related Love to oxygen. It was at that instance I realized something. I’ve spent too many years inhaling and exhaling such a fragile and pure concept. And for once I want to suffocate at the thought of a healthy heart.
I wanted to discontinue the second notion of my lungs. Because breathing out never sounded so strenuous.
When I saw you, I couldn’t help but gather the atmosphere around me and hold it in. My better half held it’s hand over my mouth. But for once I didn’t panic. The thought of your presence crept in and eased my pain.
At times I feel like I have reoccurring moments. Like certain circumstances have been lined up for me and you’re my humidifier, aiding my existence.
A kiss. My lips gather upon yours. And it is at that time, I can resupply my body with life. It is at that time, I always understand why he referenced oxygen when speaking about Love.
So when I grow older, I don’t want a breathing tube shoved down my throat. I just want you there, holding my hand.