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What I mean when I tell you that I want you

Your body is some artful mix of Grecian marble, sun-drenched canvas, and a palette of a life well lived. You belong in a museum where people can appreciate you from every angle. I love your body and I would visit that exhibit every day.

But when I tell you that I want you, it’s not just me longing for your touch. When I tell you that I want you, it means something more.

When I tell you that I want you…

I want to dance with you in kitchens, in elevators, in parking lots, and on sidewalks.

I want to laugh with you all the time, until our cheeks and our stomachs are sore.

I want to steal a kiss whenever you least expect it.

I want to hold your hand in the hospital and make you take your vitamins.

I want to stuff sweet notes in your jacket pockets and always be surprised when you bring me flowers.

I want to build blanket forts with you in the living room, make dinner with you in our underwear and fight over the Netflix queue.

I want to giggle when you kiss my belly, both when it is filled with our growing children and when it’s filled with too much of our favorite pizza.

I want to listen to your stories. I want you to tell me all of them — when you were hurt, when you were proud, when you were scared, when you were in awe.

I want to squeeze your hand when you need a little more courage to face the day.

I want to overcome the miscommunications and the differences. I want to argue with you about nothing and everything, and make up all the time.

I want to apologize to you sweetly and sincerely whenever I fuck up. And I will fuck up. Probably a lot.

I want to give you space to grow and push you to be even better than you were yesterday.

I want to make your life more exciting, more fulfilling, and more beautiful.

I want you.

I want you.

I want you.

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