Better

My eyelids try to close as I sit, exhaustion my close companion. But the exhaustion is worth it.
My thoughts are buzzing too loud for sleep, my fingers itching to move.
It has to be expressed; how I feel has to be expressed. I need you to know, need you to understand.
But I don't know what to say. My thoughts are too vivid for words, the written language inadequate for the expression of  feelings.
And I find no remedy to my problem.

For hours, days, I have tried. Tried to think of the words, our words. Maybe my vocabulary is too limited, and there is just no limit to how I feel.

Sometimes I'm sitting alone. My thoughts drift, you being on the top and inside of each.
I start to smile.
Someone walks by:
"Why are you smiling?"
"For a good reason."
That's my usual answer.
But Sometimes I use your name.
Because you are a good reason. We are a good reason. A good reason to be happy, a good reason to be better.
I'm a better person because of you.

--P.A.