The Lucky Ones

It must be nice to run to him
It must be nice to taste his smile on your lips
to be so close you can feel his words crash on your face
to not be able to go two seconds without touch
to be looked at that way
to be so needed, to matter
to have your worries poured out of you with each breath he takes
to drown in his ocean of passion
to feel complete with all of your soul
to have a sense of purpose
to know.
It must be nice.