this is what i swore.
not just to be with you in these barely out of teenage years. not just to kiss your young lips. not just to let you hold my slim waist. not just to dance and travel and be young. i promised more.
i promised you my old self. i promised to kiss your weathered lips. to dance when tears slip down on our face because our years have gone fast and we are 15 year olds trapped in 70 year old bodies. i promised to remind you that, no matter your shell, i know your heart and it never ages. i promised to not just travel the world with you, but to stay home with you, to visit your bedside, to tell you stories. i promised my wrinkles and my thickened waist and the ordinary. i promised that somehow together we would make magic in that ordinary. and that if someone looked in our window in 40 years, they would find us older, gray haired, and slower. but they would see us dancing, they would see us laughing, they would see us hoping. and as we dance, the light that shines from our eyes will be young and free and full of life.
this life is too short for all the love i have for you. but i promise every part. every single part. and i promise to make it joy for you. i promise to always laugh for you. because you are my treasure and if i have nothing left in this world, you would have been all i asked for anyway.
we will sink once and for all into the deepness and richness of life. together, running toward the light we were born for. whispering love until our last breath.