A failed attempt for a Christmas present idea

Try to do something thoughtful, outrageous and unusual for boyfriend.

Then realized it is entirely not possible.

Mission Impossible involved gathering my writing about or inspired by him. Over the last 15 months and give it to him as a Christmas present.

Then realized nearly everything is about him, I've written so much for, about him, or inspired by him, and my love, as it turned out, is quite epic. 

There is nothing that I could do to consolidate and condense the whole journey of taking me from A to B. Literally and figuratively. 

Started with A, A is a mess. A drama queen. B is unexpected, yet I fell in love with him unexpectedly and am still deeply in love. I can't strip and select anything when I know that he is everything to me. He had provided me with nearly all of the inspiration to write creatively. 

However, If there is anything resembles remotely the depth and intensity of how I feel about him, it's this piece. So consider this my declaration of failure. I must turn my attention to getting something much more materialistic and functional. 

Life Through the Looking Glass

How could it be already a week? If I miss you so much, and being apart makes my heart hurt, then, where did the time go?

If I don’t know when we’d see each other again, if I don’t really know anything about you, then, how could I know I’d love you until the end of the time?

If this is what a grown up relationship feels like, if I see my life through this looking glass, then, may I tell you what I see?

I see you and me, in matching charcoal black wool coats, and thick, hand knit brown hats, holding hands. It’s the dead of winter, the sun has long set, yet the moon has not risen, northern lights or the arrival of a commercial flight? Blearly, reluctantly, penetrating lights finally ready to be swallowed whole by the same darkness. Who are those passengers? Are our children, our children’s children on board? The snowstorm has finally stopped, icicles hanging low, break they shall, dimmed snow-covered streetlights, a black cat stretching on the side of the slightly elevated road, green shining marble eyes staring down.

I’m finally gray, and you are finally frail, we are not saying anything; we need not say anything. Footprints are slowly forming on the snow-covered walk. You know I have always loved you. And this is the end of the road.