[Hiroshima Mon Amour (1959), dir. Alain Resnais]
The glory of your eyes in the sun, the warmth of your laughter overriding the songs on the stereo. The waves of hair crashing at the shore edges of your rigid face. The fleeting glimpses of your smile as our lips part for a moment of air.. None of that compares to the pure childlike joy I feel in my heart in our nearness, how we can spend more than eight hours completely invested in reading every bit of each other. A little too much.
how I yearn for you to hold my hands; but my mischievous soul enjoys your fear of not wanting to.
The fear that crippled my one of its kind strong posterior, I am no longer a goddess, but better yet I am a woman in your presence. I indulge in my desire to simply follow you wherever you go, darling.. dearest.. oh my.