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2003-04-10 - 2:02 p.m.

It's 2pm. April 10th.

You are so far away.


That's the number of photos I have of you.

It's the number of photos I look at, of you, each morning, and sometimes in the afternoon.

Some are intimate, some are awkward,

some are silly, fun, romantic....

some are us.

Each of them are mine, images of the person I've chosen to live the rest of my days with; the person who picked me, of all people, to love for the rest of hers.

In some, your hair is long, thick and tinted....often obscuring your beautiful face. It reminds me of the way I sometimes reach up towards you, and pull it back, out of the way so that I can see your eyes when we make love.

If I close mine tight enough, I can almost feel the way a smile forms on your face when I do, the feeling against my palm as I pull your face towards mine.

In some photos your lips, full and lush, give you that little pout that always lets me know you're wanting more of me than I'm giving you.

The dancing photos, candid and even the quickcam ones I 'stole' when we talked a million years ago (Feburary) before your last visit, make me instanty ache for you.

Picturing you and chloe, in the living room, sliding across the wood floors, both of you shooting sly glances for approval, her to to me.

The ones that hit me hardest, are the ones in my head of the night I proposed to you. I don't need to have them printed out, or on my monitor, or in my wallet for them to be the most vivid images I have of you, though.

My heavy coat wrapped around your shoulders, you in black, elegant and the most beautiful woman I've ever known or could concieve of, walking with your hand in mine, hips brushing my jacket pocket, filled with a small diamond ring.

You said "yeah".

I couldn't draw anything else in that picture, if my life depended on it.

Just your nervously licking your lips, biting, nodding your head, and me following the words up and out, into my chest, whiteness engulfing me, until I opened my eyes again to see your eyes.

your beautiful brown eyes

I can see them now so clearly

eyes that feel and know and love

eyes that lift and cry and forgive

Eyes that look at me the way no others ever have.

I wish I could show you a picture of the way you looked to me that day, and every day since.

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