But instead I'm daydreaming. Long country drives drinking coffee and talking to Him have me giddy. Focus in class wavers as my attention is pulled back to Him. How can someone be so romantic? I don't even like romance. He is different. He loves me in my heart's love language. Predominantly rolling pastures, white clouds, farm animals, sunrises, and balmy breezes. Can His voice really be this audible? How have I not heard it so clearly before. I have had a taste, and now I'm enamored. I can't get enough. I talk to him as tears roll down my cheek. I'm no crier, but He moves me. I hear His voice, but I want to feel His arms.
When this drive ends, I know I will stray again. But You will call me back to the desolate places to fill my heart again. To spend precious time showing me Your extravagance. I pity the guy who attempts to fill Your shoes. I pity myself when I let him try.
Tomorrow morning is too far away. You're calling now for me to come away with you. Butterflies.
I will. If only this night will end.
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