Really Reality

The swing of things are swinging back into place, bulkily landing at my feet reminding me how real reality is. There is the other reminder. That look in your eyes and the spark in your fingertips reinforces the knowledge you've given me that reality doesn't have to be faced alone, really. Maybe for some, and maybe I used to have that, but not anymore. You've changed the gravel path I once walked on to a flower-filled, vanilla scented stroll through the park in the middle of summer. This is the reality I'm becoming used to, praying daily it never will ever, ever end.