“Beautiful, intelligent, inspiring,” his tone aprasing. “But I’m just standing here?” And I was just standing here just as he asked. “So” he spoke as if I was saying the most idiotic thing in the world. “You stand there, yes,” he continued “but the look in your eyes the hope and fear and raging intensity of both extremes, you stand there, but you stand with the confidence of a thousand soliders.” “You make me want to force you to stand there forever, so I can consume all of your… your… your you.” The twinkling of his eyes was the only thing that let him continue, he stepped closer and grabbed my hand, “you, every aspect of you making me think of everything that makes me happy, hopeful, loving, kind, but you you are more than the good, you are the intense, intelligent, strong, extreme women of my dreams.” “When I look at you these emotions they fill me up a warm, hot, deep feeling and this feeling makes me want to spread them with the world,” “you are my muse.” His muse I’m his muse. “Then I will stand here until you capture every aspect of me, every emotion you want to share.”