Sunday, October 16, 2011

Pour toi.

Five months.

Has it really only been five months?
Five months since I saw you that way for the first time, five months since I left you that way for the first time. Five months and we've already been further than Columbus could ever have hoped to go.

You say we have yet to travel the world, to go places together, to see things.
It's not true.
I've seen mountains and seas, sunsets and sunrises through my dusty windows. I've seen millions of people, read millions of words, cried millions of tears, thought millions of thoughts.
I fall asleep every night and wake up every morning and have traveled thousands and thousands of miles, and I have never, for a single second, left your side.
You've never left mine.

Maybe when I come back we'll both be old, skin sagging from the weight of our sleepless nights and wrinkles etched into our faces from the hours we've spent smiling while straining.
And if we both died tomorrow, bones crumbling prematurely from holding each other up, it would be okay. I wouldn't be sad.

Because five months with you is worth a lifetime.