marthajefferson:she doesn’t remember when she first realized she loved him. It came slow. Like the r
marthajefferson:she doesn’t remember when she first realized she loved him. It came slow. Like the return of spring: slow and sneaky and suddenly there as if there had never been a time when warmth, sunshine, cherry blossoms —him— was not with her. There was never a start, just a slow growing joy around a shadow of curly dark hair and dimples and a hope of new roses.• -- source link