"It isn’t possible to love and part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal."
- E.M. Forster, A Room with a View
I've had a little extra "pep" in my step lately. While I've maintained my daily recommended amount of realism, everything has been slightly rose-tinted. Being in love does that, I suppose. Falling in love is bliss but falling on love again after being reunited years later is ethereal.
We went for a walk the other day. It was just an ordinary walk but I found so much joy in it. If you've never been in love, that's what everything starts to feel like. The mundane becomes extraordinary and every day is another chance to learn something new about this human you've chosen to do life alongside of. Words cease to simply exist; they become poetry. His voice becomes this song you can't live without. You find more comfort in his eyes or his smile than you could have ever found elsewhere. Every day greets you with something beautiful. The sun seems to reach down and gently touch your face in the morning. On your way to work, dead leaves picked up by the wind seem to dance on the street in a congratulatory way, like a choreographed testament to the splendor of being captivated by somebody. Night seems more intriguing than frightening and its chilly breezes invite adventure. Everything is different. Everything is brilliantly illuminated. And with this one, I can tell that nothing will ever be the same again.