The Weight of Love

I have never seen eyes purer than his, Diary! I just want to Rest in them forever. There is no language to describe it. Not even a photograph of them in their most strengthening (-and somehow simultaneously weakening) moments could sufficiently capture the Comfort that is there in them when he is actually there with me looking back at me and into mine, allowing me to venture into his, even if only for a Time.

 

There is so much power in our eyes, Diary! Windows to the soul, they say; but I say more they are more like Gateways. My flesh is stripped away when I am looking at him, and Only Love remains. -And the strangest thing of all, Diary? It is Then that Every touch becomes an Ecstasy. My flesh is stripped away and enveloped with Spirit, and somehow at the very same time it is Exalted and More Present, Real, and Capable of Feeling than it Ever was Before.

 

There is a thickness and a substance of matter that exists when Love is there, Diary, and Once you have felt the weight of it and carried it with you for a time, Everything else that you experience feels <span>so</span> inordinately light without it.