I was laying in his arms, legs draped over his and he moved my hand over his chest, placed it over his heart and held it there.
The other night I felt my own love.
I always knew how hard and passionately I loved, I always thought its strength may scare someone- with its overwhelming power and lack of fear in conquering.
The other night I felt scared.
I realised, It was my own love that was being reciprocated.
It was as hard and passionate as I always believed it to be. It overcame me and I wanted to move my hand, but he held it there, as if he had felt the same and now I need to face and overcome it as he did.
He his hold was comforting.
The other night I felt faith.
I felt the faith in my love,
He accepted it from me and then shared it with me.
He overcame it and held my hand because he believed I could too.
I felt it it shoot into my fingers through his chest, into my arm, around my shoulder and down my spine. It woke the butterflies in my tummy, they flew into my head and came to lay in my heart, where the buzzing warmth settled.
The other night I knew I was not only alive, but I was living. I was loving and I was loved.
The other night I felt love, a love I'd never felt. I recognised it although I'd never really met it, and have felt it every night since.
Anne Archer
April 2015
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