It's weird that I feel the way I do. I never know it could feel like this. That the gulf of love and passion is so vast and endless. It's like I'm on an emotional high. A constant high. The giddiness I feel inside when he looks at me.
The butterflies and knots in my stomach, trails a euphoric feeling across my head, lifting my soul into this feeling of love. I love the warmth of his fingers as he traces it on the back of my hand, or intertwines my fingers in his. When he whispers, 'I love you', it's the sweetest thing I have ever heard, the way his mouth curves into a 'U', sends my head into a spin. It's the best sugar rush I have ever had without the real thing.
When he arches his neck, and laughs his comical laugh, sometimes it sets my spine tingling, and my blood warms with the vibration of his sweet voice. I love the way his hair is so long, that they curve upwards to the sky, at the nape of his neck. And I am in love with his towering height, and how comforted I feel when he leans forward to gently dust my forehead with his sweet kisses.
My soul is set ablaze with his love. I'm burning the hottest furnace of love there ever has been in my heart. It makes me want to be a better person, because I am loved by him, and him; I. Everything they ever wrote about, described, sang, told about, idolized about this concept of "love", I finally understand. Now I know why Nabokov could write the way he did about Lolita.