listening to your old music is like meeting your past self, getting to know the person you once were all over again. You see yourself from someone else's eyes as well as your own.
“I love your presence. I love you being at arms length. I love that I can just reach over and give you a spontaneous kiss. I love the moments you get passionate over music and can speak for hours about it. I love the way you play music. I love the way you speak. I love hearing your voice. I love so many things about you, don’t you understand? The list of the things I love that you do goes on and on, it’s easy to talk about it. It’s not hard to say that I love you, the only hard thing about it is when you say you don’t love me back and that I’m silly for feeling that way about you. You’re special to me, you are in my thoughts at 3am. I can’t sleep because of you. I miss you.”
“He looks at me. Not only me, my fingers. Not just my fingers, the creases in the knuckles. Not just the knuckles, my finger prints. He looks at me. Not me but more. He looks at me and every curve in my body and says beautiful. He looks at me like he is studying every curve and kink in my body. Every imperfection I have, he smiles and says you are beautiful. All you want to do is lay there, in his arms, motionless. Lay there and let him examine you. Let him gaze at the person he has known to love… Lay there and be his everything. It’s the best feeling when you see the man you love gaze at you with amazement. Amazed because you are his and you are together.”