Do You Feel Happiness?

"Do you feel Happiness?" I asked.

"Only with you," he replied. I look into those crystal blue eyes I fell in love with many moons ago. We gently swayed on a swing set in the dark, cold, snowy winter night. We stayed quiet for awhile. The only sound was the metal creaking of the chains under the stress of our weight. I watched him with a soft smile on my face swing back and forth slowly on his swing. His hair framed his face and blew in the cold breeze. The chains were icy to the touch, so I kept my hands in my pockets. His hands also in his pockets. The pale light of a dull street lamp in the park kept his face lit. He looked young. Relaxed. The light hid his slight lines from aging and stress. 

I turned away and watched the snow blow around. Everything had a white outline. Peaks started forming on any surface that the snow could settle on. He looked me in the eyes and reached for my hand. I grasped it. His warm, rough hand almost swallowing mine. He smiled, and I see the creases in the corners of his eyes and the smile lines that i could never get enough of. I could see the happiness radiating off of him by the way that he was sitting and how warm his smile was. "I do love you," he said softly. 

"As I love you," I said, just as softly. He looked down at the footprints that showed our path from the parking lot to the swing set. He rubbed my hand with his fingertips, and I smile. I saw his lips part and form the grin that I loved so dearly. I learned the pattern of lines in his knuckles. The smile never faded from the lines in his face, not even for a moment. He squeezed my hand tenderly then let go. 

He wrapped his sleeves around his hands and grabbed the chains of the swing. He used his feet and propelled himself high. I tried my hardest to contain my laughter as I attempted to match his height. Our laughter became one while we continued our childish competition on who could go higher. The noise of our game breaking the stillness of the night. He started to drag his feet to slow down. I follow his lead. We went back to our steady swaying pace as we tried to catch our breath; each exhale emerging as a white fog. Soon the sounds of creaking and laughter ended. He reaches for my hand again. I took it and interlocked my fingers in his. We followed our footsteps back to the parking lot and made the journey home.