Loving you was the wind.

It was the fast paced gust.

It was the slow, anticipated breeze.

Loving you was the wonderous experience I could imagine.

The feeling of air touching my cheeks like your soft, cold hands.

Caressing in the crook of my neck, just like your fingers knew.

The wind knew me the best way you took care of me.

Holding my attention with it's mysterious noises as if it was you and your smile.

Loving you was the wind.

I hate the wind.