Your eyes are blue-gray. Your eyes are a sea that I constantly find myself drowning in; and at the same time, you are always there to rescue me, before I am engulfed by the waves of doubt that come with this storm called love. And the reason you are always capable of rescuing me is that there is no doubt here. The only doubt that grazes the surface of the water comes in with the winds. What we weather together is less of a storm and more of a steady rain with sporadic gusts. We need those gusts, as everyone does, to beat against our bodies and remind us that we're only human. Ironically, with you, I never feel so mortal, yet so immortal at the same time.
I worry. It's inevitable. But the distinction is that my worry doesn't blockade my love, nor yours. What does, however, impede the full extent of our love, is distance. That is not to say that I can't love you from thousands of miles away, if that were the case, but it yields the thought that maybe the distance can become a mindset, distancing you from me.
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