I only know you, my lover, as the empty space between my arms where you laid that day for eight hours straight. I know you as the bitter cold and sweet dawn of a winter morning, and the pale moon hiding behind the blue of the sky.

You do not fit me; we are two different people, and I love that we choose to be together, regardless. We are color swatches, paint blotches: part of a bigger, more beautiful picture that I can only dream to achieve with your help.

And I think that is love: the fundamentals of kindness, separation, and coexisting.