In my haste, I have smiled at you in the infancy of our time together and felt the stirrings of something different. Something new. Something patient...
And I'm not patient.
It's refreshing.
There is a wonderful place in the world for those like you. You live in the finest stuff of life. You, my darling, are the quality over quantity I have quietly searched for.
In the moments of silence we shared, we both said so much. Words were not needed between the two of us to enjoy each other's company and that was the stuff of life I needed.
You are a complement to me.
Fascinating.
Utterly fascinating.
I look forward to sharing the stuff of life with you.
Besides, my Moleskine is coming tomorrow and there are some more dreams I would like to put to paper.
And it's mine. Just mine.
Only mine.
That leather book and I are going to be on some adventures together. We have a vision that needs a home.
I'm feeling spicy and gentle and confident today and it's wonderful.
Good things on the horizon.
Good everything.
Identity.
Stuff.
The fillings of life.
The February Seventh I've wanted and looked for.
But, even then, more.
The stuff of life.
The muchness I've wanted.
The slow heating when you make candy.
Hit the right temp and you can make anything.
The patience I'm still trying to force myself to understand and do.
And I'm loving it.
Keep my attention, please.
I'll see you again around the corner.
