Monday 10 September 2007

The Tin-Man, who always has a heart

The table is approached by the waiter and the remains, or lack of, from our course is removed. I look over to my dining companion and find myself falling into the eyes I've been lost in before. So many times, yet each time a more over whelming feeling. Each more intense than the previous and just as exciting and new.

The candle light shining onto his skin, me noticing once more the curve of his brow, the depth of his smile. The rush of that first kiss outside my old theatre. The memory of the way he smelled as we waited, long after closing for our taxis. The feeling of longing to prolong our separation when they had arrived. The anticipation in his voice as he called me back and the warmth of his breath, out there in the cold, as we kissed for the first time.

The way we wake in each others arms. The way he smiles in his sleep, like a young innocent boy without a care in the world. The way he looks at me secretly when in public, and scrunches up his nose to signal that all is ok. The way I'm willing to devote my life in every way possible. To be by his side, through hardships and triumph. To love, hold, listen and learn from. To be ever faithful and share my world with, like no person before and nobody after. There will never be an after.

My life is this man. This man is my life.

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