Van Gogh writing

Days spent out in the sun are days I want to remember forever. Soaking up the sun and feeling the wheat between my fingers, I begin to think of what life would be like if I spent every day doing this. I can hear the gentle strumming of an acoustic guitar echoing from the porch, which fills my ears with its sweet sounds, and fills my heart with much needed happiness. I push my back against the tree and tilt my hat down past my eyes. I can hear the panting of my big, brown dog, who also decided it was a good day to take a nap in the shade. The sun shines down over the field, warming the wheat and the ground, making my tree much more comfortable and inviting. I wish I could share this moment with somebody. I don't mean to be selfish, but I can't help it. I suppose that's how it is for everyone, wanting more even if you have it all. I wish everyone could spend this moment with me. My eyes begin to droop again, and I feel my body getting more relaxed, as if its molding into the tree. Finally, I fall asleep against the big oak tree that sits out in the middle of our field, and let the gentle breeze brush my hair across my neck.

I wanted it to be just like this. Not necessarily look exactly like that, but FEEL just like this. I imagined that I’d get to wake up early in the morning, with her right next to me. Her soft breathing is the only thing heard on that quiet, peaceful morning. She would be still sleeping, and the sun would be shining through our window, bathing her in the golden morning sunshine. I would sit up in bed, and watch the wind blow the curtains around. Then, like a sleepy, gentle angel, she’d always put her hand on my cheek. I’d hold her hand there, while I let the tranquility of the quiet morning warm my soul. She wouldn't say a word, and she’d start to get up, before i’d wrapped her in my arms to keep her from getting up. And we would spend the whole morning together in bed, just being comforted with each other presence, only talking in hushed whispers, as not to disturb the peace.