Dear Journal,

madalenomagazine.com

Image Credit: madalenomagazine.com

After an eventful day at the office/station, I came home and got in and out of the shower, put on my pajamas, wrapped up my hair, exhausted the idea of dinner and had intentionally retreated to my bed for the remainder of the evening, all by 4:58 pm.

It’s still daylight. I mean, good and daylight. I can hear the birds having their afternoon conversation with one another. Probably talking about how they woke up early and flew downtown over the River Market and how pleasant the day has been. I imagine the other one talking about her youngins with joy. They sound so happy.

I don’t even want to turn on my t.v.

I don’t want any distractions. My sole purpose for rushing home today was to be with my lover. Uninterrupted. Just us. Alone, at last.

I thought of you all day. Catching myself smiling while daydreaming of you. I couldn’t wait to come home and wrap myself in the arms of the one who loves me. Never judged me and puts up with me. Even in my endless rants and round about miniscule details of…well, everything.

You are the only one that I can truly be myself around, in all of my imperfections without rhyme or reason. I know that you listen to my every utter. Stutters and all.

You are patient as I craft masterpieces from my soul. You get me as only you can. Selfless you are, allowing me to use you up in infinite varieties without any expectations. You are my heart and soul’s desire. I wish that I could be in two places at once, in your presence and in your mind.

God used you to bring the world into existence. That is the power that you hold. I love you because you inspire me more than there are versions of you to create. Because of you, I am me.

To my dearest love, writing words.

One thought on “Dear Journal,

  1. Pingback: Look for the Light – TheRealBlackCarrieBradshaw.com

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