The Structure

It was a beautiful morning. The morning we exchanged the words 'I love you'.
There was beauty in saying the words together, there was magic in having admitted we were ready to be elated, bemused, vulnerable, crushed.
If what we had were the building of a structure it would be astounding. It would be spires and towers, libraries and murals. Bright colors dashed against wooden frames, stacked one atop of the other, reaching nauseating heights. People would flock from near and far to read the words and inscriptions of the lovers that had paid homage to the walls of our structure. Stained glass illuminating Persian rugs, stairways leading to rope swings, slides that take you upwards, baths that make you dirty. This place we have created is awesome, baffling, gorgeous, cosmic.
But as I look around I notice something missing. This place has everything, what could be missing? There is a zoo and a kiosk. A photo stand and a drive in movie. The whole place is powered by bloom boxes and the cafeteria serves cravings. What could be missing? Then all at once it hits me! It's so obvious. There is no where to sleep!
In a world where the the home is best built on love, where the home is love, we have not built a home! The structure we have built is grand, but it is not a home.
This was sad realization at first, for if we were not building love in this world, what were we building? Then I realized that was not the real matter at hand, not at all. It serves no purpose to fret about the lack of us constructing a home or love! Not at this point! Not yet!
In a mere five months we have built towers, bridges, cut glass, quarried stone. Tamed beasts large and small, learned to fly, lassoed the moon. The structure we have built is fucking monumental! Who cares if it's not a home? If we haven't proven thus far that we are capable if not gifted architects and builders than nobody was watching. We are building as we speak, and if a home is necessary: some closets, some bedrooms, a hearth, a sofa, an island kitchen, a doghouse, stools. Then we will add on. It will be an easy task.
As for right now that idea seems far less fun than going back into our structure and building a few more things we haven't thought of yet. We have time and resources in abundance, we need not rush.
It was a beautiful morning the morning we exchanged the words 'I love you'. There was beauty in saying the words together. There was magic in having admitted we were ready to be elated, bemused, vulnerable, crushed.
But saying the words doesn't build us a home, it merely marks the mutual desire to begin drawing out the plans.