Wildfire

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I love you most in the misty dawn of morning, when I first stir awake before you do and your head snuggles deeper into the pillow with each ‘I Love You’ I whisper to your sleeping ears.

I love you best during the peak of day in the afternoon, when the thought of lunch fishes a smile unto your face, digging little dimples into your cheeks.

I love you hardest during the falling of dusk, when the sun slowly tails back into the inky evening sky and along with it, your day’s worries.

And then I fall in love with you all over again during the quiet hours in the night right before bed when you pull me closer and, with your kiss goodnight, you whisper back ‘I Love You’, a song of a reply to the first I utter at the start of the day.

I love you in many instances interspersed throughout the day and they keep growing, multiplying and blooming until almost every second my heart skips a beat without me even thinking about it. It started out small, like a tiny pulsating ember of light in a distant nook, then just grew and grew until it is a massive wildfire that can no longer be tamed.

It is a wildfire that, today, has burned for 6 years.

Happy 6th anniversary, Ninja.

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