You make me not mind walking in the noon sun, crossing roads, amidst a sea of people.
You make me not mind letting you see me in my ratty sleepwear.
You make me not mind letting you touch my arms. And nose. And my tri-acyl glyceride deposited chin.
You make me not mind not getting flowers. (Though flowers were never really my taste.)
You make me not mind letting you in on my worst fears.
You make me not mind letting you in on my deepest secrets.
You make me not mind letting out my weird and geeky and silly self with you. 🙂
And though you make fun of me a lot, I find it difficult to get mad at you. Or stay piqued at the little things that usually are my worst pet peeves.
I’m not sure you know the effect you have on me.
I’m not really good at letting you know how I am and how I feel verbally, but you seem to get me, and my thoughts, and the things that other people normally would have never picked up on.
That level 1? I think you level 1 to the power of (-3) me, just because you pick up on even the undertones of our conversations.
And our conversations, come in all colours, and shades, and sides, and planes. Talking to you has never been boring.
And as much as I love our conversations, I love our silences as well.
Being quiet with you holding me in your arms, our feet touching.
Being quiet while slow dancing, my feet on your feet, and us just swaying to the sound of our rhythmic breathing, no music, just us.
Dear You, just thank you. From the deepest pits and grooves of my sulci and gyri 🙂