that crazy gig of overwhelm

That outworking of excited explosion unconfined by composure; that universal uncoordinated dance of absolute joy that sensibility cannot arrest; that feeling when what’s just been heard/seen/received is exactly, if not greater than, what the heart desired; that crazy gig of overwhelm.

I did that dance today.

And all he had to say was that I was the one (though he said other lovely things which made me feel wonderful).

Oh God. Hahaha! So this is love.

.

Being told “you are the one” is wildly different from being told “i like you a lot” or even “i love you”.
Heck, I love a lot of people, and so does he, but there’s only room for one in the office of “the one”.

And it’s got my name on it.

Oh. My. Word.
This is actually happening.

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