Hace mucho que no escribo, pero me apetece dejar constancia de que sigo vivo.

When I think of my love for you, I am reminded of the same intensity Mediterranean sailors from 1000BC would look at the stars at night. To feel awed, guided, and inspired. I wake up every morning longing for that same feeling of exploration they might have had, of wondering if they would ever be able to reach them, see them with their own eyes, explore their arrays of universes, and ultimately sit next to them and glance back at the Earth, at that same sea where another sailor might be looking in their direction. I feel that same thing, whenever I wake up and find you next to me, your laying calmly as a temple of ages lost, covered in vines and layers of memories untold, bathed by the purple dawn light that veils the morning sky. I feel the urge for an answer, will I explore those universes that your eyes promise, that I notice in your stance whenever I look at you and see you focused on your day to day little things? Will I see those treasures and jewels announced by your smiles, with my own eyes? Will I do it next to you, and finally sit the two of us together, above and beyond all the stars and universes and stories yet to be told and lived by those that will come after us, and glance back at everybody that will look at the sky and remember us as constellations, as the gods we become in our loving?

I want the answers to these questions and I want them now. Because I cannot wait to live the rest of our eternities together, as inseparable as the sea and the stars have appeared to every sailor that crossed our dearest most beloved waters.