I am so sick. No, really. Deathly ill. I really do think I might actually be dying. Slowly. While watching Merlin and trying not to drool every time I see Gwaine. (which is super difficult because he's super yummy.) 
Anyway, this post really isn't supposed to be about Eoin Macken or Merlin or how excited I am that we're getting closer to meeting the knights of the round table. It's really supposed to be about how amazing my boyfriend is, but I don't think I can do that. Unfortunately, I've come to realize that the proper words don't exist in the English language in order to facilitate my gushing. Seriously. I'm at a loss. Sitting here writing sentence after sentence beginning with the words "I love" and ending with some amazing thing he does seems repetitive and completely and totally inadequate. Sometimes what you're feeling for someone transcends words.
All I have are feelings and looks and the ridiculously rowdy butterflies that seem to have permanently taken up residence in my chest. I know my skin tingles every time he touches it, and every time we go to an art museum and stare at the impressionist paintings or he listens as I ramble on about architecture and how much I hate rococo revival or he makes me dinner I want to cry because I'm not sure how I got to be this lucky. I know there is nothing more wonderful than being in his arms and I know that I turn into a puddle of mush when he smiles at me. I know these things, and I know how he feels about me, and I know how I feel about him. So, really, I guess I don't need to sit here and make a ridiculous list.
Back to Merlin I go.
Anyway, this post really isn't supposed to be about Eoin Macken or Merlin or how excited I am that we're getting closer to meeting the knights of the round table. It's really supposed to be about how amazing my boyfriend is, but I don't think I can do that. Unfortunately, I've come to realize that the proper words don't exist in the English language in order to facilitate my gushing. Seriously. I'm at a loss. Sitting here writing sentence after sentence beginning with the words "I love" and ending with some amazing thing he does seems repetitive and completely and totally inadequate. Sometimes what you're feeling for someone transcends words.
All I have are feelings and looks and the ridiculously rowdy butterflies that seem to have permanently taken up residence in my chest. I know my skin tingles every time he touches it, and every time we go to an art museum and stare at the impressionist paintings or he listens as I ramble on about architecture and how much I hate rococo revival or he makes me dinner I want to cry because I'm not sure how I got to be this lucky. I know there is nothing more wonderful than being in his arms and I know that I turn into a puddle of mush when he smiles at me. I know these things, and I know how he feels about me, and I know how I feel about him. So, really, I guess I don't need to sit here and make a ridiculous list.
Back to Merlin I go.
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