A Hidden Love Letter

I love music.
I love what it makes me feel.
Except when it hurts.
Music makes things make sense.
Music is my expression.
Music fills in the blanks when I’m tongued tied.
Music makes me want to dance.
Music makes me happy.
Music can make me sad.
Music makes me want to make love.
Music makes me want to just keep falling in love with my husband.
Over and, over and, over again.
And again, and again.
The vulnerability.
I say yes.
I fell for him sooo long ago.
The hurt.
The pain.
I say yes.
The greatest most precious times.
The unforgettable laughter.
I say yes.
It feels so right.
Music makes me feel free.
I’m so in love.
The beat.
The instruments.
When the beat drops.
The bridge.
The back ground singers give me goose bumps when I’m really feeling it.
Like, dancing in a room full of people.
But I just see you and me.
There’s no comparison.
There’s no one else.
No one else that can.
It’s you.
There’s no doubt in my mind.
I love it.
I love you.
Music makes feel every emotion.
I tremble inside.
Your touch.
Your voice.
When the lyrics pours love from his heart, to mines, I so full.
The artist relates.
It’s always been you.
This thang we got.
When you can put a song on repeat.
And just think about that someone.
That person.
Your person.
Just close your eyes.
When it’s late, and the house is quiet.
Just me and the beat.
The words.
I used to get in my car, and just ride.
Music blasting.
Singing at the top of my lungs.
I wished you to me.
So many lyrics that remind me of, us.
I see your face in every love song.
‘I’m still falling after you.’
Signed, Your Wife.