There are things that I wish I could tell you that I won’t because the fear of being too much still boils under my skin, like a disorder you wish never flared up.
Things like I wish that we’d get matching tattoos, like your name in bold letters or your face because I know that no matter how bad this ends I will always be the most proud of ever loving you. I want a wedding as big as the full moon tonight, I want to do every religious tradition with you in the books because I want you to be sure about me. About us. I want to jump over 100 brooms, break a 1000 plates and tie a million ropes around us while we’re on our knees - bowed down to a god we are both so unsure of. I want a million wedding rings for every day I will wake into knowing I will love you. I want to break down the moment I see you walk down the aisle. I want a billion I love yous and I want to tell your mother I’m so happy she raised you. I want your father to look at us and feel happy you have someone that loves you like I do by your side. I want to tell every stranger about you like I’ve been keeping the cure for cancer for years and I can finally talk about it. I want you to know I’d never get tired of calling you my wife. Things like I used to think love was nothing but an idealized hope to distract us from reality until I met you. I used to think it was nothing but talk until you walked into my life like it was your house and you were already familiar with the furniture. I used to think calling someone perfect was cliche until I talked to you. I think you’re the most perfect person in this dangly world for me. From the tips of your hairs to your toes, I can’t find a single fault. I want to give you everything and anything for always and forever.
You make me feel like a trillion falling stars meeting mother earth for the first time.