They way that I love you feels like an autumn breeze. The wind reached out to me. She took my hand, placed it in yours and whispered, “here”.

Truly, winter was nearing end, and that crisp air knew it had one last job to do before the storms arose and locked us all away in beautiful pillars and platforms of snow. They ask me why I love the smell of cinnamon. I tell them it’s because is reminds me of my favorite days of the year, happiness, and comfort.

The days where I feel less like I am wandering through the days, and more like I am pursing my days. Moments I have shared in the final trio of the year are so potent with beauty and friendship, and most importantly love.

It came to no shock of mine when our worlds were becoming two halves of a whole, for I was brought to you by something greater than both you and I. You asked me why I love the taste of cinnamon. I told you it’s because it reminds me of home. A slice of pumpkin pie, and the candle in the window. The warmth bringing joy, while watching the days unfold.

I thought for years I would never see something as beautiful as the holiday seasons, but then I saw hazel eyes and I knew things would be different. I cry at the slightest things, I make mistakes, but I try. Still those eyes grazed my soul and smiled.