*disclaimer: hopeless romantic*
If you know me, you know that I love E.E. Cummings. After all, I do have two different tattoos of his words written on my body.
“Mr. Cummings’s poems are loved because they are full of sentimentally, of sex, of more or less improper jokes, of elementary lyric insistence.”
E.E. Cummings makes you fall in love with love.
And I for one love, love.
Over the past couple of years, I started to love myself again after I met my husband. He makes me a better person. Now, I am not saying that I need someone to make me a better person. I just love who I am when I am with him.
With him, I am a dancing in my underwear to no music kind of girl. The girl who belly laughs every day at all his jokes and baby talks her way to bed. There was never a day that passed that I didn’t laugh.
I speak in past tense because before he left for Bahrain we lived three hours apart and that girl who danced in her underwear and sang as loud as she could to no music then, only showed up on weekends when I went to visit him.
It’s a weird feeling. You know? Like, “I am always being myself,” but I have recently found out, I am my best and favorite self with you.
I want to be that person while you are gone. I want to belly laugh even if it’s at my own bad jokes and I want to dance in my underwear while no music plays. But it just isn’t the same.
I can’t explain it. Maybe I secretly hide bits and pieces of myself so only you get the best qualities. 😉
My point is, I am trying my best to be myself in a world that wants me to be like everybody else, but I really can’t wait to be myself when I am with you again.
T-minus 11 months 21 days 13 hours 6 minutes and 30 seconds until I get to dance in my underwear and laugh with you again!