a consuming love. a love so deep you’d need a breathing apparatus to live in it.
not a suffocating love – no, that kind i’ll pass.
but a consuming love – one that wraps around you like warm, fuzzy socks on a winter’s gloom.
a love that hums like birdsong on a golden indian summer’s day.

a consuming love that stirs you from within and brings you to life.

a love that quiets your doubts and worries.

your fears.

your imperfections.

your anxieties.

a love that aches for you,
and only you.