LOVE IS WONDER OF WONDER

‘You know when you love someone when you want them to be happy event if their happiness means that you’re not part of it.’

 I received love letters from him every week. Yes, he never emails me , he often does that. But what thrills me is the snail mail I receive from him every week. I run barefoot and eyes sparkling, like a child to the mailbox, giddy with anticipation of yet another surprise. His letters, more often than blue, come in a long, pink envelope. His handwriting fascinates me. The strokes of his red pen artfully claim their spaces on the pink stationery.

He sends me postcards. America’s sunrises, captivating and vivid in colors. Hamburg's seaport, ‘cover’ with ships and boats of varying sizes and shapes. Switzerland's snow-capped mountains and white slopes, silently enticing my heart to go backpacking with him. He can shoots copy of old building like an pic of nature and shares them to me. Billion of stars like motionless but twinkling fireflies against the vast darkness up above. The magnificent lunar eclipse, adoring the America sky. Cherry blossoms in their arresting splendor, as if to welcome me into his own version of spring, a wonderful life with him as new life of me , feeling was second born ! He love to travels quaint towns and old villages and forwards raw selfies to me, seconds after he shoots them. His passion are against church towers and colonial architectures.

He is as old-university as I am. Perfectly weird as I am. Our passion is inseparable, like windows hinges that fit perfectly together. To love him and to be loved by him , that really is wonder of wonder of my life .