His warm picture

It was one of our most relieving conversations that night and i was once again making the best effort i could to define the way(s) i was feeling for him.
I could have spent less effort and yet again he would understand.
I’ve finally discovered that it’s neither my definitions nor efforts, but it’s mostly his sincerest willingness to understand me.
A simple glimpse of a milisecond would already mean what it had to mean to him as long as he was willing to reveal what was leaking from my soul.

Was i drunk that night?
Sober?
Too tired?
Perhaps all?

I simply said that I’d walked all the way to stand in front of him with nothing to disguise and said i wanted to stay where i stood in that picture then.
I just want to keep that little place as long as he wishes so.
He perfectly knew that i had no selfish intention to become superior to the rest of his colors he had gently placed in recent years, but just be one of them, an ordinary one that never needed to have significance.

I admitted that i was at the limits of my language capability,  the obvious lack of vocabulary was killing me, panicking as if i would fail to stand in front of him if i did not express myself efficiently.
He was….as he was mostly… relieving.
Gently patting my neurons with appreciation. That they were doing well.
His one breathe was enough to comfort me at the end of the line.

For the first time in my life, i felt that precious luxury of being fully understood.
And i fell for him.
One billionth time i did.
I felt deeply secured and complete.
This is unique.
Nothing compares to this state of mind.
This is simply harmony.