it's that feeling you get, like a sudden gust of warm wind on your face, when he opens a door into a room you knew was there but had never seen. there are no secrets - just hidden treasures. each room has a different treasure to discover, all waiting to be found.
it's like wanting to reach out and lightly brush his arm with your fingers, knowing he'll smile... and eventually wriggle away as he bursts into giggles.
it's when you close your eyes and all you can hear is his breathing on the pillow next to you, you feel his heart beating against your shoulder blade, you still taste him on your lips, you smell the lingering fragrance of his shave gel.
it's the way he leans in suddenly and sniffs your hair, or brushes a stray strand from your forehead, or peers through a cascade of it just looking for your eyes.
it's what you sense when you're just sitting next to him, and he's quietly absorbed in the tv program. you move your eyes to his, and they're far away, but he's still right there.
it's how much he cares what you think, what you believe, what you hate, what you dream, what you want, what you see, what you feel, what you love, what you need - what you are.
it's him.
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