When I first met you I felt a sort of explosion go off inside me. Like fireworks being ignited in my eyes and butterflies catching flames in the pits of my stomach. I felt every ounce of nervousness fleet my body once your eyes locked with mine and I swear for a nanosecond I could see our future in the transparency of your iris. When we kissed I tasted every old lover departing from my taste buds. Now it seems as though I only taste you on the tip of my tongue at 3 am. It’s your face I search for when I wake up in the middle of the night and it’s your hand I crave to hold when I’m driving down the road. I don’t think I’ve ever been home until the first night you held me. It’s true when they tell you home is not a place, home is somewhere where you feel safe. And while you held our bodies close I swear not a goddamn thing in this world could touch us. You touched more than my skin when your ran your fingers over my scars, you touched a part of my soul no one has ever cared to dig up. I have skeletons in my closet from nights I have killed myself and somehow managed to wake up the next morning. For a while it seemed like I died every night. But when I’m with you I have never felt so alive. Holding your hand felt like holding constellations in my palms and kissing you felt like gravity had a stronger pull than ever. There is something enthralling about you and I felt it the first time we spoke. I can’t tell you how long we will be together, and I can’t tell you if what we have is temporary or perpetual. I can’t explain the way it seems as if time stops when I’m with you. All I can tell you is that you make me feel things that I’ve only read about in books. And if I must compare you to something it would have to be the sun because of the way you light up my dark world. You put the moon to shame every night. And If I had to say something about how beautiful you are I would say that the sun has to shield it’s eyes when you smile for you have the most radiant smile in the world. I would say that flowers hope to be plucked by you and the rain would fall just to graze your cheek. I would say that there is no color in a paint shop that could match the pigment in your lips and there is not a word in the dictionary to describe how they feel pressed against mine at four am.