my take on it

I always thought I just wanted to be comfortable or content; there was no need to be REALLY happy because that would be selfish and asking for too much. I was okay with just being moderately happy. Then I started to notice all around me, people that were pursuing their dreams, looking for something more. I thought then that maybe there was something more than just being comfortable. Maybe there really was something better out there, something I could really touch. When I decided that I was fine with just being content, I had given up on trying to achieve that real happiness. I was tired of it all, tired of failing, tired of being let down and was willing to settle on mediocre.
I met somebody. He is so focused. He knows where he wants to be and what he needs to do. I admired that. I admired his determination and his very real desire to reach his dream, in turn, his happiness. I looked at him and his life and realized how mine was lacking. Even though I know that there are enormous difficulties along his path, I am jealous. He says that he is so consumed by this one thing that it hinders everything else and that he is nothing without this one thing. I might not really know or understand him, but I do disagree with this. In the short time that I have known him, he has shown kindness, generosity, sympathy, thoughtfulness and a depth of caring that goes beyond most people. This simply amazes me.
It's been a long time since I have felt this way; felt something so deeply that it touches my heart and literally makes my heart ache. At the same time, I am glad to feel this, to know that I haven't forgotten how to love.
I love all the little things. I love that when he grabs my hand, his is always warm. I love the way he calls me 'baby' with affection in his voice. I love that he notices when I'm feeling down or stressed and does everything he can to make me smile. I love that being with him makes me feel like everything will work out in the end. I love the way he touches and holds my face when he kisses me. I love how he hugs me like he doesn't want to let go. I love the way he touches my skin like it is the softest he has ever beheld. I love how he always smells my hair when we embrace. I love how he always kisses me hello. I love that he always opens the car door for me. I love that he wants to be with me, even if we're both doing our own thing. I love waking up next to him; even better, I love waking up in his arms. I love seeing his name on my cell phone when it rings. I love that he tips everywhere he goes. I love the fact that he is a hopeless romantic. I love how he is comfortable being a dork with me. I love his passion. I love that he is interested in learning more about the things I enjoy. I love how he compliments me. I love the way he color coordinates his outfits, all the way down to the shoes. I love that he notices and appreciates the things I do for him. I love that he is sentimental. I love how he always checks to see if I'm doing okay. I love that he cares about me enough to never make me false promises or tell me false sentiments. I love that he notices what I'm wearing. I love that he'll light candles and play music for me. I love how we steal kisses in the elevator. I love that he pitches me ideas and asks for my opinion. I love it when he takes my hand when we cross the street. I love that he waits for me to watch television shows that are considered "ours." I love the way he leaves me messages on my voicemail like he is actually talking to me. I love hearing his voice before I go to sleep. I love the way he looks at me. I love that he is silly. I love how he asks me about my day. I love how he observes everything going on around him. I love how he is able to give me advice not as someone I'm dating, but as an observer. I love how he thinks I'm beautiful and will tell me so. I love seeing him for the first time each day. I love that he wants to be there for me. I love that he doesn't shy away from my sappiness. I love his honesty. Most of all, I love feeling the way I do for him and to truly mean it when I tell him that I am his.