pleasefeelbeautiful:

whimsicalwordsandficklehearts:

Despite the many days and nights in which I tell you that I wish we were together, I will never say that I wish we shared a life together—I think that is an incorrect concept. I want you to be a part of my life and I want to be a part of yours. The glorious thing about human nature is its individuality, its sense of self. Who would I be to rob you of that, to immerse myself so heavily into you (expecting you to do the same) that the lives we lead would become one and the same? I am entirely in favor of togetherness, of being as close as close can be, but I love you for who you are in the life you lead, and I need never to take you from that place.

That being said, I do want to take part in your life, to be a part of it: an active role, interacting with all of the others. I want to meet your friends and see what you see in them (and see what I see in them, too). I want to be with your family, become a part of it as you wish; I want to see how each member functions on their own, in relation to each other, and especially in relation to you. I want to see the way things in your life work, separately and together. And I want to be beside you through it all.

Perhaps to anyone but me, being a part of your life and sharing a life with you would appear to be the same concept. Perhaps it really is. In the end, as long as I’m with you, I’m content. But the event that this isn’t all just a shout to the void, I will say this:

The world does not revolve around you. It does not revolve around any of us. Your world, however, does revolve around you, just as my world revolves around me. It is in spite of our most humble ways that we are taken by the narcissism that leads us to believe that our lives, our worlds are our own. And if in this world that revolves around you—or this solar system, as you’re deserving of more than just a world, I am privileged enough to be an orbiting moon (or even a passing shooting star) then it is with great honor that I am so. In this, we live on two separate but connecting planes, different from each other but joined nonetheless, and if that isn’t what love is all about, then I don’t know what is.

The things that spill forth from my mind at 2:30am after an evening spent with a John Green book and an itching to produce words of my own.