As a writer, nothing quite soothes the ache or the chaos of notions and emotions in my head quite as much setting pen to paper and just letting my mind knit its pattern on the page. Except that is, when my mind finds itself wholly consumed with something I find impossible to write about – like now.
There have been too many occasions to count where I have set pen to paper as I am doing now and attempted to write about this; but it’s like trying to paint a picture of it when there are no colours on earth that beautiful enough.
I didn’t know I was capable of loving someone quite this much. I think of her and it’s so much more than just a fleeting thought– it’s an experience that takes over my whole body. It starts in my heart so gentle and warm but at the same time powerful enough to explode all over my skin; a warm shiver – a tingling of a million little kisses all over my body. Washed over with an emotion so overwhelming that my very soul wants to cry; cry with joy, with unending gratitude and humility that I have the most beautiful person in the whole wide world to call my own.
To me, she is not just a someone, she’s a feeling; a feeling that only those blessed enough to be completely intoxicated by the love for another person can empathise with. My drug of choice, my ecstasy, a pleasure so divine that it must be sinful. Yet she’s my angel and such purity cannot be defined in dark inks, language, at my disposal, has not the capacity for such divinity; which is why, once again, I’ll fail to write about her. I cannot do it, I lack the gifts to do her grace – but I’ll keep trying forever.