Shall we take a trip?
Regrettably, I don't think this trip will be able to reach as far into my mind as I would hope to, as words can only take us so far, and the feelings I wish to give body to know no end. So take these words here as the grainiest grain of that ineffable feeling that one calls love.
Here is what I mean when I tell you that I love you:
When I tell you that I love you, I mean that I see you in everything. And if it is not promptly apparent then know that I will search for you in everything. In all of the places that I journey, in all of the people that I meet, in all of the sights and sounds and smells, I will persist to find a reason to remind me of you. I want to see you in the world around me so that I may begin to love it as much as I do you.
When I tell you that I love you, I mean that my senses are consumed by you. I close my eyes and see you there. My mind is full of images of you. All of the joy that I feel is underlined by your presence in my thoughts, and even if grief were to intrude upon my mind, I know only to think of you to wash it all away. I latch onto these thoughts like visions of a lighthouse in a starless night, with the safety of knowing I am finally being pulled to shore.
When I tell you that I love you, I mean that you are familiar to me. That loving you is as innate to my body as breathing. That it feels like my heart has been here with you before. That I feel as if all of my past selves have felt the same love for all of your past selves. That it has become so familiar for my heart to love you that I surely must have been here. It seems to me that I have always loved you. And the notion that it is perhaps ordained by fate that my future hearts will carry on this tradition fills me with tremendous joy. I cannot wait for my future hearts to find you, and continue finding you, for eternity.
I feel as if this trip through myself is doing a poor job of explaining these feelings, perhaps because these feelings are too immense to describe. There is so much I wish to say to you, to show to you. Writing these things down is difficult, and I apologize that this letter is all I am able to give to you: a meager speck of my boundless adoration for you.
Perhaps I can sum it up as such:
I am cast into the sky at a tremendous speed, ripping through the clouds like a bullet. I hurtle towards the surface of Earth, and I know that when I make contact I will pierce straight through it and continue far and beyond past it: through other planets, stars and universes far beyond our notion of distance. It occurs to me that I am falling. I am in love with you, but I am also continuously falling in love with you everyday. And this falling, this endless and endless falling, deeper and deeper in love with you, is perhaps the easiest thing in the world, because you are you. Yes, you are exactly that: loveable.