All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken, the crownless again shall be king.
It is you. It is fucking you. I cannot describe it anymore, it is you. You are the only one that I will ever want. I belong with you. You are my home. I look at you, and somehow I can see 50 years from now on the front porch of some old house in the middle of nowhere and we’re together. I need you. You are the only thing that matters. You are my good.
I’d feel more comfortable answering this if you weren’t anonymous!