I want to be an old woman shelling peas with you next to our garden, it's bounty spilling over the fence, the harvest of years of our love, patience, and attention.
I want to bring in cut flowers to sit on the table where we dine together in thanksgiving for the benevolent abundance with which we are blessed.
I want to walk hand in hand through the forest, our fingers interlocking, meeting each other in custom grooves made over the course of many years.
I want to be understood, so that saying who I am isn't a constant battle of words ever missing the mark. I want to know your thoughts before you think them, but ever be delighted by welcome surprises from your engaging intellect.
I want what I have to offer to be enough, because you understand the full import of what I give.
I do not want to live out my days a solitary stranger, never to meet you, love.