She asked him, “If we knew anything at all, would we even bother living?”,

He told her that life was easier to live in sensibility. 

She told another, “If we had proper meaning, I would choose to be more sensible,”

He explained to her that, not only was the world bigger than they thought,

But bigger than they could ever possibly think.

I think that was the moment I knew that you comprised of notable value. 

That you were made of complex thoughts, and beautiful explorations. 

You are long walks in the dark, followed by an idyllic breeze I call your touch.

You are hidden flower beds lining secluded brick paths. 

You are everywhere I am not; and yet so undefinable. 

I wander the space in between,

Unaware that I had been looking back for something the entire time.

Unaware that the presence I craved to fill my curiosities was you. 

The world is something larger than us,

And still we manage to thrive under its offenses. 

This world is merely a speck of dust compared to the rest of everything;

What are the chances it brought you to me?

What are the chances, that in between every changing  season, 

Every gap of sunlight in between tree lined trails,

That the world made time for us?

The world is so big, yet it led you here.

The world is so big, and all that I find myself falling in love with is my mind.