You And I

... are specs of dust. One of the first things I ever said to you while looking up at the stars. As lay on top of my car to watch millions of tiny dots revolve at a seemingly still pace. An ever-present reminder of how small we are, usually hidden by the light we so desperately cling to. The sky was falling, as if Perseids had written: "I was here!"; maybe that August he became the harbinger of what was to come out of that night.

In that feeling of nothingness there is an indescribable type of calm. I looked up. You looked up. Then suddenly we were specs of dust, but we were specs of dust together. That feeling of nothingness disappears, and a feeling of wholeness takes over. That same feeling I get everyday when I get to be with you, and I'm so thankful for that. On my worst days you make me feel like nothing else matters. You are my night sky in the star-less city of New York. I love you. Click on the star below to see where we're going from Feb 5 to the 7th; I hope you like it.