Loving him was the feeling of the warm morning sun coaxing you awake.
It was the bubbling happiness that turned eyes into happy crescents and mouths into brilliant grins.
It was the overwhelming fondness that had your heart bursting at the seams.
It was the sound of giggling in the early morning, the afternoon, the late night.
It was the way his arms wrapped around you so firmly that you felt nothing could ever tear you away.
It was the gentle kiss of the golden sun fading into the delicate caress of the silver moon.
It was the midnight whispers and the early morning rasps.
It was living in a universe all your own, where your hearts knew the call of each other's names before your eyes ever met.
It was hugs melting into kisses--sweet brushes of lips against foreheads, against cheeks, against lips.
It was the color of sunshine and the feeling of silk.
It was gentle and it was kind and it was unwavering.
It was warm and it was safe and it was beautiful.
It was serendipity.