There are days, and there are *days*

There are days, and then there are *days*. The former, the kind of days one lives, and passes by with the significance of the mundane, the routine, the known, the comfortable.

And then, there is the latter *days*.

The kind where everything goes right. All because he saw right into your heart, and made the stars dance brighter, the air feel more lush on your cheeks, and the cogwheels in your mind more astute.

And your heartbeat quickens, not because you love him (what nonsense that is, for we are both transcended beyond that kind of physical human love for each other).

But because you love you more when you are with him.