Sometimes it’s nice just to sit and contemplate.
Sometimes it’s nice just to sit.
I’ve found the perfect match for sitting and contemplating, or just sitting.
His presence is enough for me to know that he loves me. Words, though one of my favorite things, do not always need to be spoken.
Sitting with him is enough.
It’s not about what the universe reveals to me, because if the universe reveals anything, it’s a giant question mark. A question with no answer, or an answer with no question.
But none of it matters because he’s here, with me, near me, or over there, sometimes. Knowing is enough. More than this, there is nothing.
Sometimes songwriters say it best: